Wolf King
by Dantegrey
Summary: A year has pass since the fall of Alduin but for Yimir Stormsong; the Dragonborn and Stormblade; it has been nothing but a good year. Thane of Solitude, trusted advisor of Ulfrik the High king, Harbinger of the companions, trusted alied of the Dawnguard and so goes on. However soon he will be framed for an assassination he didnt commit and Oblivion broke loose...
1. Wolf king Prologue

Winstandmanor

Main bedchamber

Aela was reading a very odd manuscript deliver to her by a very nervous courier; not really a surprise considering all the security measures his husband Yimir has outside the mansion he built for both of them before they started to adopt children.

They were having a little time for themselves; between Yimir titles and her own work at the companions they barely have time for themselves any more; and the children didn't help it. It was a sore spot for both of them that even after a year of marriage and wonderful sex life they still didn't have any child of their own.

They have adopted a whole platoon of orphans and Aela love her little pups like they were of her own but still she would love to have a pup of her own and she was convinced that Yimir would love that too but for the moment it looks like the destiny have another opinion on the matter.

After a very messy situation with the Dawnguard and the Blades Yimir snapped and simply asked Ulfrik to allow him to take a little vacation out of his duties as Thane and Stormblade. As soon as he reached Whiterun he ran into her and tell her that they were going out on vacation to Winstandmanor.

The children were in care of their loyal housecarls and under the protection of competent and trustworthy friends of the couple in Solitude. The children were enthusiastic with the travel to the capital as only a pair of them had already visited and lived in Proudspire manor; the house Yimir posses in the city as Thane of Solitude and one of the few he keeps nowadays.

Although the children were eager to pass the winter break in the proudspire with their parents as Yimir has promised a lot of them to give them some gifts or taught or show some of his trophies from his adventures with and without Aela.

Not necessary to say that the children were expecting those days with a mix of emotion and wondering what wonder would show them their parents.

But before that family days, Yimir and Aela took a weekend to have some quality time in the Winstandmanor or as Yimir usually calls the place: The Dovah Wharehouse.

The first house Yimir built with his own two hands and the only one he posses recently as most of the other houses he own were sold or gifted as present for organizations trough all Skyrim. The mansion was a big and sturdy mansion of nord style.

At the beginning it wasn't anything more than a warehouse for the few possessions Yimir had but as the time and his fame ;and wealth; increases, the home finally became a two history mansion protected by atronach, rune traps and a loyal to death housecarl Gregor who was now having his own vacation as Yimir ordered him to let only his wife and him alone in the middle of the beautiful landscape.

And that's were the problem was and why Alea was so disturbed by the little scroll.

First of all...how by Hircine has manage the courier to now where they were?; it was supposedly a secret escapade to this mansion, no living soul know where they have gone for their little scapade.

Even Yimir told some rumors about a lot of places they could have gone; from Solstheim to the glaciers and paid an extra sum of septims to Gregor to stay mute about where they were but even then, this damn courier has found them and bypass the guards of the mansion.

It was terrific and at the same time impressive the efficiency of the courier system in Skyrim.

Anyhow, the letter was much more worrying than the wondering about the couriers and his awesome tracking and stealth skills.

Aela knew; as Yimir told her even before they were married; of the colorful past of her husband. From his time as one of the brotherhood to the time with the dawnguard and Serana, he told her all; there was no secrets between them except the past of Yimir, as clouded for him as for any other living being except the vampire master who enslaved him for who knows how much as one of his elite thralls.

For what he told her, his mind was a muss in all that time, he doesn't remember anything that is not combat related or the undying loyalty he had for his vampire masters. Not exactly his best moment but there was nothing he could do until an opportunity window opened for him when his actual master was killed by the brotherhood and left him on the open.

Just in time to be arrested for killing a Thalmor and be sent to Helgen...well the rest is history by now; half the bards of skyrim sang his tale by now; everyone of that tales is more exaggerated than the previous and except one or two of bards that Yimir knows personally no one of them is even close to the real deal.

Not to mention his little adventure the day of the wedding, that was a real mess with the damn Black thorn family and his bragging and underhanded tactics. How could anyone suspect that Maven would hire a lot of muscle brains to brag into the ceremony and kill anyone in sight.

They got themselves into a fight with the inner circle of the companions; the commander of the Dawn guard, the heir of the Vohlkimar vampires; the nightingales and a delegation of the mage college in winterhold. Not to mention the assassins of the brotherhood watching in the shadows for the good going of the ceremony.

The carnage made Aela curl her lips into a dreamy smile; they kill all the idiots like the were nothing better than training dummies and Yimir was so handsome bathed in blood with his battle axe and an expression of joy and a wicked smile.

Ok, his husband could be a child at heart sometimes but when the battle is on, you better be on his good side as he is the dragonborn, slayer of Alduin and capable of knocking out a bear in a fist fight. She saw it personally and it was a really turn on; they still have the skin of the bear on the bed. It was really warm and comfy.

Still, it was about time both of them take some times for themselves; between them responsibilities as companions and the militarization of the country as soon as Ulfrik became the High king they have been very busy with all kind of errands and the adventures in between as Yimir continues learning the true power of the Thu´um under the guidance of his dragon master Paarthurnax.

They have a very busy agenda after all but a little break from time to time it was a very good thing, it helps them to release steam and maintain the passion; they were wolves, and wolves mates for life but as humans they need a little more spice into the relation.

Sighing and knowing nothing good would come of her reading over and over again the damn letter, she get of the bed and throw a fur cape over her shoulders.

She was wearing only her underwear and the fur cape; as nord she has quite the resistance to the freezing temperatures that are common in skyrim even with the hot fire that burns in the middle of the mansion and warms the inside of the two story house.

Passing along the enchantment room; she smiled as she saw the glint of her new dragon bone bow in the weapon rack, it has been a surprise that Yimir has been forging for a few weeks.

Instead of common magic enchantments it was reinforced with Thu´um containing the power of the dragon tongue inside the bones of a dragon forged into a powerful bow; it came with a dozen arrows of ebony that are capable of piercing a giant all the way to his heart with ease.

Yimir always knew what are the paths to her heart smiled Aela climbing down the stairs; even before they were a married couple, their adventures together and the hunts under the bless of Hircine are very good memories on her heart, along the ones that she is having with the platoon of adopted children they have in the mansion of Whiterun.

What it was a simple house, it was starting to become something worthy of Dragonsreach; and its not a surprise considering how many children they have adopted and the army of housecarls they need to keep all nice, tidy and secure.

Ironically the best place for raise a family was Solitude, the capital of Skyrim and still the political nucleus of the country as Windhelm is becoming more and more a military fortress.

She take a seat at the big table in the middle of the hall watching the fire that warms the mansion with focused eyes; despite all the good deeds his husband has done for the country and the high position he had on the council of Ulfrik; in recent times there was a breach opening between them despite the common ground that was the deep hatred both of them had for the Thalmor.

Aela stretched his luscious and athletic body to the warm of the fire, letting the sensation permeate his body as she was having one of the most relaxing times of the recent years...if it wasn't for the fragging letter.

She repaired on the still warm food on a plate near the head of the long table and smiled. Yimir has woke up before her and made her a good breakfast before he went outside to check out the defenses of the mansion.

Perfectly fried venison steak, some chicken roast, a delicious sweet roll, fresh baked bread and a bottle of honey brew mead. The breakfast of the champions, specially considering that thanks to their status as werewolves they were practically carnivore in their tastes and diets.

Good thing both shared a deep love for the good mead and the better meat and better thing Yimir is a very good cook.

She wolfed down the food as she enjoys the culinary arts of her husband; she was a capable cook but Yimir had something that makes his plates always a delicatessen.

Drinking her mead at slow pace, Aela pondered the news he has received; they were very dangerous news for both of them, no matter how good relations did they have with the High King or the other important organizations in Skyrim.

_We are on vacations by Hircine, Couldn't be the world safe for a fragging day?_ thought Aela grumbling between her teeth looking with his wolfish eyes into the fire, angered by the stupidity of her nord compatriots even after all the good deeds both Yimir and the companions made to the country.

Probably the Thalmor hand is behind all this mess but as weakened his grip is on skyrim now; they still had power and enough septims to bride some idiotic thanes or jarls to do some pressure in the court to take out Yimir from the council as he is not Jarl but only Thane no matter of how many holds only his status as Stormblade grants him equal footing with the rest of the Jarls in the council of Ulfrik and this days that was starting to loose his weight.

Aela ear the main door of the mansion open, letting in some freezing air from the blizzard outside. Winstandwas near the Pale, freezing climate and blizzards are everyday occurrences in the lands owned by Yimir.

Not to mention the dangerous fauna of the land; perhaps that's why Yimir keeps a lot of sensitive items in this mansion protected by atronach, traps and the wild and lethal fauna.

Yimir stands in the entrance hall, supporting a lot of wood over his shoulders ;only dress with a wolf cape, hide pants an a pair of study leather boots; humming happily the song of the dragonborn losing totally the rhythm of the tune but still as happy as a child with it.

Smiling Aela get up and went to say good morning to her husband at the entrance but he was faster and in a quick run, locked lips with her in a passionate kiss and raise her up embracing her waist.

Both lost themselves a little in the kiss, separating his rabid mouths only to take breath and start again; Aelas tongue explored the wet inside of her husband mouth as him licked and sucked her lips letting her dominate the kiss augmenting her lust until they stop thinking and just let them lust take control.

Stripping Aela of her clothes Yimir lay her on the table and without stopping kissing both of them engaged in a very frenzied love making session, throwing all the item on the table to the ground as they take the space on the table for a lot of different and interesting postures.

The money in the temple of Dibella was well invested by the nines...

And thanks the carpenter that make the table as sturdy as it is...

As their passion and lust is sated, both of them laid over the table; Yimir almost falling by his side as his frame was big enough to cover all the surface of the table and he had his wife over his chest, both with ragged breathing.

"Damn you red head seductress, every time is better than the previous" laughed Yimir embracing his wife with one arm; an arm big enough to cover all his wife body; enjoying the heat of her body and the bliss after the love making.

"Oh, shut up half giant" smiled Aela still under the shivering of the orgasm; her sex life was active to say the last but still there was no bun in the oven.

"What were you doing outside apart form chopping wood?" ask Aela mounting her husband to be on top and not letting him go anywhere.

It was a good thing that only both of them were residing in the mansion right now or the bard or the housecarl will found them in a very awkward position over the main table of the house.

Yimir smiled and put his hands on the waist of his wife telling her what he has in mind for the rest of the day.

"Finding us a good hunt" answered and he could see the glee in the eyes of his wife as she has not enjoy a good hunt since forever, the best were only works sent at her as companion and with a few exceptions they wasn't really a challenge.

"Ohh" whistled Aela closing the gape between both of their faces, letting her crimson red hair fell over Yimir chest like a cascade " and what will it be dear?".

"Your favorite" smiled broadly Yimir quickly biting a strand of the lovely hair of his wife and kissing it.

"And it will be...?" Aela and Yimir faces were now at two inches of distance, both noting the sudden and increasing heat of their bodies.

"Silver hand" Yimir said before kissing again Aela on the lips much to the surprise and pleasure of the woman.

Her mind was in a roll of joy knowing that soon she will unleash her inner beast onto the same milk drinkers that killed Skjor and old good Kodlak in the sacred halls of Jorrvaskr; that was an insult that can only be clean with blood, lots, lots of silver hands blood.

At first, Yimir didn't hold any grudge against the silverhand; they are like the dawnguard but specialized in werewolves instead of vampires and a lot less organized and clever.

But that doesn't mean that If you hurt someone dear to Yimir you suffer...a lot, as simply as that.

Aela moaned under the kiss despite her being on top and continue savoring the wild taste of her husband; there was something in his taste that reminds her of a storm but before they went again in another intense love making session she cut the kiss and smiled at the disappointed face of Yimir.

"How many?" ask the werewolf woman already tasting the blood of the mild drinkers.

"Eight so far" shrugged Yimir "but I am convinced I smell at last two or three more in patrol near the camp".

"Silver weapons and arrows I assume" grunted Aela.

"Quite likely but there are not professionals; if there was a real professional among them they would never had the plan of camping in the middle of the forest instead of an easy to defend cave in the nearby mountains" snorted Yimir remembering the camp.

They were totally in the open, only with a big campfire in the middle of the camp to cook a freshly captured venison roasting over the fire and some hide bag to act as beds. They are patrolling the surroundings yes but still they were utterly relaxed.

Something that is lethal as hell in the wild frozen lands of Skyrim.

"Better for us" shrugged Aela already counting the hearts she is going to eat and offer as sacrifice a to Hircine " there will be a wonderful moon tonight isn't it?".

Yimir smiled with and identical wolfish grin as the one Aela was showing and nodded; happy to make his wife happy. Aela has being taking more and more of the responsibilities of the companions, helped by the twin wolf brothers back in Whiterun and she deserves something special.

Yimir could be the Harbringer but all the responsibilities he has as thane, his status as the previous arch mage and one of the most powerful dawnguard members alive leave little time for anything and in recent times he has to maintain the skyforge as Eorlund is getting to old for the job and the companions need a forge master.

Yimir could perform the job for the moment but he knows the skyforge is not fated to him; he is just a helper or a replacement until the true master arrives and takes the tools once again as Eorlund did in his moment.

Aela tried to get off his husband but the strong hands of Yimir were firmly grabbing her waist; with a glint in her eye Aela downed her face again to enjoy the passion of his husband once again, as infinite as ever.

As the day pass and the couple just enjoy the company of the other, the night came and with the night the hunting urges of both of them started to rise.

Almost naked both of them were standing in front of the mansion, closing it totally; leaving the place under the care of his guardians.

The creatures that guard the entrance of the mansion were a discovery that Yimir made in Solstheim; an adventure itself when he had to face another dragonborn and the damn hermaeus mora in order to prevent a monster to rise in the island that could cause great havoc in the recovering lands of skyrim.

Enough they have with the fragging thalmor and their hired pets.

As guards they were astonishing; until destruction they will protect a place and the people designated by his master without hesitation.

Yimir had a little problem at the beginning learning how to perfectly control them and to be able to summon more than one guarding a position but after a lot of trial and error in a remote place to avoid innocent people being hurt he had now six atronach like beings capable of fighting anything without hesitation and in equal footing until they were destroyed.

They were hard to replace but it was needed a lot of power to crush the reinforced beings as Yimir has made some little tweaks to the original conjuration and made them more dangerous but at the same time much more loyal and obedient to their masters.

Aela sniffed the cold air of the night, not bothered at all for her nakedness or the cold temperatures, the nord blood was specially resistant against the freeze climate of her homeland were there was snow almost every day of the year.

At her side, an equally naked Yimir was stretching his powerful frame much to the glee of Aela who was very proud of the ripped body of her husband; not in vain the rumor said that he was half giant. Yimir always did some stretching before he changes into his beast form; he says that it helps the transformation but she was convinced it was a mental thing more than a real fact.

Both of them smiled at each other and then start the transformation.

When Hircine made the beast men he had the predators in his daedra head; the beast form of the shape shifters was always something impressive but at the same time terrible to behold, specially if the one you are looking at is an alpha among the werebeast or is a powerful or blessed exemplar of the race.

The arms of the couple started to elongate, the nails became claws, a dense fur started to cover all their bodies like a cloak. Their faces twisting into an expression of pain before the muscles and teeth elongated enough to adopt a wolf shape and the eyes diluted themselves in a pitch black ocean before becoming the red or yellow eyes of a beast.

Growing bigger by the moment with powerful muscles appearing on their bodies, both shape shifters ended their transformation with a powerful roar to the heavens that scared almost all the fauna in the forest in under them.

Aela get on fours and started to sniff the smell of silver; the perfect way to track a group of silverhands was as simply as track the silver on their weapons. For noses like the shape shifters had the smell of the silver is was highly offensive as the material is one of the few things that really hurts them burning his resilient fur and hide and charring their flesh with the bare touch.

Yimir was big as human but now was a towering ten feet black furred werewolf that smiled with a sharp teethed grin to the moon as he inhaled and howl with power enough to make the nearby trees shackle.

As the howl finished a bright group of eyes glittered in the night surrounding them, a pack of nearby wolves has ear the call and the alpha werewolf of that group appeared and submitted to the power of Yimir as he could recognized a more powerful alpha in front of him.

With Aela at his side as his mate and the other alpha guiding a dozen of powerful wolves Yimir started a high and wild run through the forest until they reach their objective.

The run trough the lands was exhilarating, Yimir always loved that sensation when he run in his beast from trough the skyrim landscape, the power and the freedom was addictive itself, there was no one to answer except himself and the need of the hunt.

To stall and jump to the kill at the neck of a terrified prey and in this case the prey was a dozen humans belonging to the Silver hand that killed a good and wise man just because he was something that they didn't understand nor they cares.

Yimir jump over one big lump in the forest waiting for the rest of the pack to join him in the little clearing near the peak of a stone form that pointed to the stars, at less than one hundred meters of their preys.

The wolves moved along the bottom of the stone, with their eyes fixated on their objectives and only the presence of the powerful alphas near them preventing them to jump already to their throats.

Despite the feral blood lust they were experimenting, their instincts were screaming not to screw up with this Alphas; they would tear them apart and devour their remains in front of their pups.

Aela take place at the left of the stone, raising her nose and sniffing the aromas of the night as the last werewolf stood just at the right of Yimir keeping his pack at bay until the more powerful than him Yimir gives the signal to launch the pack at the silverhands.

Yimir exchange a look with Aela as they both were communicating in a non vocal manner like most of the wolves do except for the howls and those will be used only before the attack.

When any of them howls its not just a ferocious sound but a call to the powers of Hircine to bless their hunt and in this situation could alert the silverhands before they tear them to shreds.

In complete silence the pack divided in three groups, Aela and a pair of wolves moved to the right of the camp, Yimir moved to the left and the other werewolf and the rest of the pack put themselves in straight line with the fire of the camp.

Yimir get on fours and with a tiny growl of anticipation start running releasing a powerful howl in the night; the sound reverberated like a wave in the ocean, shackling the threes and shocking to the core the silverhands on the camp but before any of them could even take their weapons two spectral red werewolves appear in the middle of the camp clawing the guts and the head of one of the warriors.

Yimir jumped from the shadows biting off the head of one of the warriors, still with a hand on her battle axe before the rest of the wolves except Aela entered in the fray biting and ripping apart anything on their way.

It was not really a combat, in all honesty it was a damn butchery.

The silver hands had no real hope in here; as Yimir had been tracking them for hours yesterday and knew who were really dangerous and what and were they doing in his lands.

Because of the discoveries he made stalking the group; he had found the perfect gift for his wife as she could unleash her savage side and made a good offering to her lord Hircine at the same time.

Thanks the Nine for the small favors, they needed this vacation and this little carnage really hit the spot; as werewolves they have to let their beast loose from time to time in order to get the beast under control and don't became just a rabid animal.

Yimir stop the silver war hammer of one of the silver hands with a single hand, grabbing the handle before the head connects with his body and with one single sudden pull of his clawed arm rip the arm of the man leaving him bloodied in the floor before Yimir bite his throat in a fountain of gore and proceed to fest on the mans hearth.

Four of the Silver hands had opted for a running into the only scape way let by the sudden attack and Yimir just ear his wife munching happily recent teared flesh not very far from him; the runners weren't a problem as the battle has just ended in less than two minutes.

Raising over the death bodies like a beast god, Yimir just take the hearth of another of his victims and howl to the skies offering the piece to Hircine. He may not been his best follower specially considering how he is the dragon born but the lord of the hunt has done well to him and Yimir pays his debts with interests.

Devouring the heart of the prey he noted a powerful surge trough his body, augmenting his strength, his senses became sharper and his grim widen as the blood and the flesh of the hunt run down his throat empowering his transformation.

The other wolves just enjoy the fresh fest of flesh in front of them, howling their thanks to the Alpha among them kneeling in submission when Yimir pass at their side.

His nose caught a very enticing scent; the unmistakeable scent of female arousal; whipping his head to the origin of the scent found his wife; still in werewolf from glaring at him with a glint of diversion and lust on her beautiful wolfish eyes before swaying her hips in a very interesting manner ( the tail wiggled very cutely in Yimirs opinion) and start a run into the forest.

Yimir howled one time calling the hunt to begin and with a nod to the other alpha and his temporary pack jumped over the stone in the limit of the camp and start chasing his wife into a lust filled chase trough all the Pale hold, far away from their mansion and inside the northern mountains of Skyrim.

But Yimir didn't care a shit about the lands, he was totally focused now in the image of her werewolf wife running in front of him, teasing him in this chase, taking unexpected routes, jumping through cascades and in general making him chase after her like a puppy in heat.

Not very far from truth all must be told.

At the midnight hit the skies, Aela started to fell her powers diminish; even her status as alpha female could prevent the gift of Hircine to lost his power unless is replenished with fresh hearts hunted in his name and Aela has been on the run from her husband for hours without time to hunt a prey and eat it heart to empower her beast form again.

But in all perhaps it would be a good thing; she wanted Yimir now, seeing him butchering the silver hands has produce a very heating sensation all over her body and now the hunt, prolonging the chase and the delicious end was going to be the perfect end for a fantastic night of hunt and pleasure.

When she reached the peak of a mountain, laying on the cold snow surrounding her, she let the beast form leave her as the power of the daedra started to abandon her. Her vision became blurry and soon the transformation recede, leaving a hot and exhilarated beautiful red head nord woman almost naked breathing raggedly on the cold night; her athletic and strong body emitting a soft steam opposing her body heat to the coldness of the snow.

Soon ;and without her open her eyes; noticed the presence of her husband but something was odd, her husband was still in beast form, opening her eyes a little surprised he could saw the towering werewolf form of her husband stand over her, in the still bloodied teeth there was a smile and suddenly the ten feet beast start to lick her hot body with an equal hot tongue sending shivers trough the spine of Aela.

Every time the wet appendage touched her skin Aela moaned as the cold of the snow and the hotness of the tongue produced very interesting reactions within her until she tried to embrace the muscled and furred torso of the werewolf moaning louder on his ear asking for more.

The wolf snorted one single time as a quick laugh and proceed with enthusiasm to cover his wife in a coat of saliva, pleasuring the woman; his mate, his wife, his love; the best he could and for the moans and sounds the redhead was making he was doing a perfect job.

Aela was in the verge of exploding, she was paying now the price to the previous teasing as Yimir licked her to the stasis with a long and thick tongue, exploring her body with tenderness but a hint of lust that make Aela shiver just thinking about it; suddenly she take the tongue with her mouth kissing the tongue with passion and eagerness.

When she finally separated to breath Yimir look at the beautiful woman under him, her eyes full of lust, her body asking for him with a tiny trail of saliva between his tongue and her mouth, raising the wolf head to the sky and covering the body of the woman with his own Yimir howled with force enough to shackle the snow and the rocks near them.

It was an astonishing sight.

With the snow surrounding the pink and red body of the woman; her red air like a curtain of fire mixed with the melted snow; and the monstrous werewolf standing over her howling his claim to the skies the image could be the perfect picture for more than one artist to paint.

As the howl recede the wolf turn his head to the woman and embraced her with bestial passion but at the same time with a heart warming tenderness and care for her body, pleasuring the woman with every thrust he made into her.

Hours later and with the passions already sated the powerful couple were sat on the comfortable chairs of Winstandmanor enjoying a good breakfast of meat and mead with some cheese that Yimir constantly founds in the drawers despite he never remembers to have bought it.

After the extenuating night both have shared on the snow; Hircine bless the beast blood, makes you totally immune to almost every disease like a nasty cold for example; the married couple were talking and just having a good time with each other. The Nine knows it was hard to achieve some little time for both of them these days.

"That was a wonderful night" said Aela wolfing down a big piece of roasted beef, Yimir had put some herbs on it that simple made the flesh taste like heaven " we should do something like this more often".

"I concur my love" replied Yimir cutting a big piece of said cheese and eating it with another piece of bread before drinking a sip of his mead " you deserve it; you have been taking care of the companions and the children meanwhile I was on Windhelm smashing my head on a wall called Ulfrik".

Aela chuckled at that image, it was truth that the tension between the Stormblade ;Yimir as his title was given to him by Ulfrik himself at the end of the civil war; and the High king Ulfrik for the opposite politics both of them have in the matter of the mer, khajit and argonian races living this days on Skyrim.

"Totally worth it honey, I enjoyed every single moment of the night" smiled Aela with a sultry tone that only make Yimir smile.

"We still have one day before returning" laughed Yimir " I shudder thinking about what could have done our children without you behind their backs to maintain discipline".

Aela laughed but suddenly her laugh froze much to the surprise of Yimir who stopped chewing a chicken roast and look at her wife confused.

"Whats wrong my love?"

"That fragging milk drinker letter!" shouted the woman almost throwing her husband out of his chair by the surprise.


	2. Wolf King Entering Yimir

Skyrim

Whiterun

Sky forge

To fully understand the events that are going to take place on the most famous forge of Skyrim, we need to knew a series of facts during the past years, from the rise of the Dragonborn to the end of the civil war and the Coronation of Ulfrik Stormcloak as High king.

Back in the days of the war between the Stormcloaks and the Empire; the dragons returned to Skyrim by the hand of the biggest and more powerful of his kind. The world eater Alduin.

But at the same time, in the Helgen fortress a tortured man was about to be executed alongside Ulfrik, a man scarred in mind and body, a nord giant of grey mane and white left eye that stumble upon his destiny, confused and dizzy because his sudden freedom.

The Imperial legion captured him when he has was killing a Thalmor justicar; crushing and splitting his head in two with his bare hands. He was completely out of his mind; deep into a rage trance, he resisted to the arrest, needing five imperial soldiers to dominate him and not after a frenetic struggle that broke the arm of one of the soldiers and some ribs of another one.

This didn't exactly put him on good graces with the legion surrounding him, even less considering he has already crushed to death the Thalmor. The result was him, chained and tossed on the same carriage that the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, directly to Helgen, where the executioner was already sharpening the axe for the neck of the Rebel leader.

Even today he has to admit, the events that day are a little blurry; he has just be freed form the slavery a vampire has put on him, and his mind was confused and damaged, the real thing he could remember is a voice, blood, fire and a person speaking to him about civil war and choosing a side...

Oh, and a jump from a roof he can still never understand why the hell he did that; and remembering running among imperial soldiers fighting a dragon, dressed only with rags and chained like a beast.

Not his best moment, but still today he admits that wasn't a real surprise considering that not half day before his capture by the same squad that captured Ulfirk he was a vampire thrall, with his mind completely subjugated by the will of a Thalmor vampire who enjoys having around him a retinue of subjugated nords; at the same time protectors and playthings.

Ironically he owns his freedom to another vampire, a very special vampire that runs with the Dark brotherhood.

¿Twisted?..yeah, totally agree, but for the poor tortured and confused Thrall, the sudden freedom of the grip that enslaved his mind for so many years has been finally released, and the first emotion that run rampant in his soul was anger and retribution. Pity his victim was not his former master, even for a vampire, the fury of the Nord would be something hard to deal with, not a surprise, not so much later the poor lad discovered he was the Dragonborn of his generation.

That fact cracked a smile on his leather-like face, happy to found new ammunition to throw against his old vampire master.

However lets start form the beginning...when the Dragonborn; a strong but tortured Nord called Yimir Stormsong started his adventures and misadventures over the beautiful yet lethal lands of Skyrim.

When he awoke after the beating the imperial soldiers gave him when they found him killing a Thalmor justicar, the first thing he saw was the sun and the sky of his native land; although the sun bright too much for his eyes, especially his left eye, whose field of vision was a little blurry after so many years in the dark and the shadows watching his master coffin like a well trained dog.

A voice spoke to him, one man with a blue armor, another nord like him but younger..or not..his time as Thrall could have aged him prematurely..¿ how many years has been since he saw his own face?.

His master was in love with himself, considering the Almer race and society the perfection incarnated; and the humans or other mers not much more than suitable slaves for his amusement, however his vampire state was something that pleased and disturbed him at the same time. Obviously he loved the idea of perfect youth and health for the rest of the eternity but the idea of the sun scorching his pale yellow flesh was something that mortifies him.

For years he maintained his most powerful thralls near him, especially after the rumor that the Dark brotherhood was after him, some of the families of his latest victims had performed the Black sacrament, and the Night mother has answered the call.

Pity Yimir wasn't close to see, but the end of the bond that enslaved his mind could very well signifies that his master was dead, and for the first time in decades, he was free; free at last to take revenge on his captors. ¿His first victim?, the most new and talented of his apprentices and vampire candidates.

Yimir could answer to the blond man words but with a tiny growl because the deep headache and muscular pains he was experimenting, not only for his freedom but the beating received at the hands of the imperial soldiers.

He smiled and spoke to another man in the carriage, Yimir shocked his head to eliminate the confusion but it was all in vain, he could barely remember his name among the pain and darkness that cloud his mind. He catches some words among the conversation, more focused on saw his surrounding, trying to figure where the hell he is.

The reference of the Jarl catches his attention, he remembered how his master despite the man in blue armor and bear pelt; noble clothes, a fur-trimmed blue cloak and his mouth covered. The name was Ulfrik Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, Leader of the Stormcloaks. Titles that had little significance to Yimir, who has been decades as not much more than a blood hound in an underground lair.

He has been captured with the leader of one of the sides on the civil war that was thorn apart Skyrim, talk about bad luck. The bitterness of his situation among the happiness for his freedom collides in his mind and he could barely watch the carriage travel to Helgen, an imperial fortress.

The blond man comment something about mead and berries; a local mixture of some fame for what it seems, but there was little more time to chat when the carriage stops and the soldiers ordered them to get down.

The last man of the carriage; a poor horse thief whose only sin was to be on the worst possible place; tried to run for this life and freedom, just to be shot down by a bunch of archers that and the Legate of the legion, They enjoyed the killing, something that ignites a spark of rage on Yimirs heart but it was easily suppressed by the grim future he has in front of him.

Some soldier, good man bounded by his servitude to the legion talk to him, registering his name, Yimir blinked trying to focus on the sight of the imperial legionary but he can only answered his name with a croaked voice , consequence of years of imposed silence.

His master wants his pets silent and obedient, so they will only talk when they gives permission to do so. Yimir listened his voice and recognize a broken body and soul; well, even he wasn't on the damn list, the legate want everybody dead and beheaded, so he was moved to the execution ground like all the other warriors on blue armor by his side.

Listened to the last rites, a one side conversation between Ulfrik and a Imperial general and presence the courage against dead of one of the blue armored soldiers, just to be tossed by the legate to the execution ground; still a little blinded for the light of the day, Yimir could saw in the distance a Thalmor woman on a horse. The hate awoken some strength on him, trying to walk and kill the Thalmor bitch before his own dead, that could be a perfect end.

But the legate kick him on the back, forcing him to kneel down at the mercy of the executioner, the axe went up and Yimir smiled almost happy to march to sovengarde at last after all the time slaved and punished by a racist and egomaniac vampire master.

The voice and the name awoke him completely for a second, a shout that reverberated through him, putting him back on his feet again. Just in time for receiving some form of energy that pushed him a little at the same time cleaned a lot of the mist of his head.

A dragon was attacking Helgen, Yimir look to the beast and even today he can not explain why the hell he laughed like a maniac, running for his life into one of the fortress tower.

The scape from the fortress was confusing, full of screams, fire and blood.

Yimir run for his life until someone cut at last the ropes that bind his hands, with his arms free at last, Yimir must recognize that he enjoyed perhaps too much, when a pair of soldiers tried to stop him and his Nord companion. The blond man of the carriage who was called Ralof.

Yimir broke the neck of the imperial soldier with one hand and the second later slice the throat of the other legionary with the axe borrow from a corpse. Feeling more alive that he has been on decades, Yimir opened himself a bloody path on the underground facilities, cutting down anyone stupid enough to stand in his way.

When he arrived at the forest behind the fortress and saw the dragon flying to the mountains in the horizon, Yimir couldnt but laugh his ass of, he was alive, he was fucking alive and better of all, he was free form his master, he was free at last of decades of enslavement and humiliations.

His companion understood his happines but he thought it was a bit exaggerate, he could not knew nothing about the time of Yimir as nothing more than a plaything...not Yimir could knew about the real time he has pass on the dark.

Ralof spoke to Yimir about the rebellion and the war that erupted on Skyrim after the golden and white concord. As Nord himself Yimir listened to the arrogance of the Thalmor to supress the cult of Talos from all the lands of the Empire and his convictions revealed against the idea of simply trying to forget a man who became himself a god by his own epic deeds.

He accompany Ralof to a safe house in Riverwood; a place to heal and recover a little for the trauma of his liberation, not only from the vampire but he has escaped from the grip of the death at imperial hands by a damn miracle in form of black dragon roaming an imperial fortress.

Yimir heal in mind and body, slowly but steady, awakening without him to be aware of it, his powers as Dragonborn, the capability of slaying and devour the beasts soul.

In the present day; as the fires of the Sky forge started to glow forceful and some of his dearest friends reunite, Yimir let his mind wander by the galleries of the past.

He has perform his own share of glorious and not so glorious achievements but everyone of them was a delightful adventure, some honor bound, some sad, some glorious, some funny, some dark but all in the end were only steps for the big plan he has on his mind.

Let Skyrim tremble at his sight, for he is the Dragonborn, The Harbringer and Stormblade, Slayer of Alduin and a lot more titles...

And he has just begun...


	3. Chapter One Debts must be paid (I)

**DISCLAIMER: I dont own Skyrim Bethesda does**

Skyrim

Whiterun

Skyforge

Midnight

Yimir smiled warily when his sense of smell catch a very particular smell in the air; mixed with the aromas of the night and the city under the sacred forge. It has been a while since he caught that smell, however it was time for a little teaching to the new recruits.

He always has consider himself a person of honor; however its amazing how honor can take a person to extreme situations and to achieve amazing feats in order to clear a debt, a very important debt. In this case; in order to settle the score; Yimir had to transform himself into an assassin once again.

The wind whispering in the night, bringing along it the scent of a poisonous blade, a steel dagger covered with an old good favorite of Babette. Frostbite spider poison mixed with hargraven blood. A poison with he coated arrows during his time as assassin for the dark brotherhood; efficient and relatively easy to find and mix the ingredients.

He continues feeding the fires of the Skyforge; in part to not revealing the assailant that her presence has been discovered and on the other hand the forge needs a lot of attention, after all, this night Yimir will try to forge a masterpiece.

The attack occurs in a blur of movement when one of the shadows of the skyforge transformed into an assassin of the dark brotherhood with twin dagger reflecting the light of the forge. The shrouded figure jumped form the shadows trying to stab Yimir in the throat and in the heart with her daggers.

It was a perfect maneuver; quick, accurate, lethal and silent. Pity his target was more than prepared to react; this kind of attacks depends absolutely on the surprise, if your victim knows you are there, you are lost.

Yimir moved suddenly backwards, entering the guard of the assassin and smashing the back of his head into her mandible, stunning the assassin for a second, time enough to grab one of his wrist and throw her to the ground with violence.

The impact take out all the air of the assassin lungs that gasped in feminine voice with pain and confusion; Yimir finish the fight by recovering one of the daggers in mid air and pointed it at one millimeter of the assassin neck.

"You are quite skilled novice" congratulated Yimir before tossing the dagger over the worktable at the side of the Skyforge " but your stealth needs a bit more of work, nice choice of weapons and poisons by the way".

Yimir returned to his duties over the fire, leaving the assassin in the stone floor of the forge, recovering his breath and body from the sudden and violent impact. It wasn't something really life threatening. In the past, at the times he trained with Arnbjorn and Veezara, they beat him harder and more badly that the little stunt he has pull with the novice...although there was something about his smell that was familiar.

"Do I know you novice?" asked Yimir directly with no subterfuges; he has better things to do than start a verbal duel trying to obtain the information.

"Yes you do" replied the shrouded woman panting, standing up again on his feet " we meet before in Markath after I performed the Black sacrament".

The reference of the city and one of the contracts he has to perform to pay his debt with the listener came to his mind; remembering who the young assassin was.

"Muiri?, the assistant of the Hag´s cure?" Yimir raised an eyebrow; he knew the girl when he kill the bastard that seduced her to steal a family relic of Windhelm. From an alchemist apprentice to novice sister of the Dark brotherhood; quite the change.

"Same lady" smiled the woman removing the mask that covered most of his face " the Listener send me to Whiterun to perform some errands for my training and she said that I should try to kill you; it would be good experience for me...twisted sense of humor my Listener has" Muiri massaged his chin, still in pain from the first headbutt; the Speaker head was as hard as stone.

"Aye she has; damn child" grumbled Yimir raising a long bar of ebony from the forge and hammered it a bunch of times, shaping the ingot into something more larger but before he put the bar against in the forge for heating the metal, he whispered a word over the red hot metal.

Muiri shudder because the man was whispering in the Thu´um, the ancient nord art of words of power, inherited from the dragons thanks to the blessing of the divines; a single word can kill a person with easiness and in the past; the Tongues; the masters of the Thu´um; were capable to fight toe to toe with dragons.

"So, what does the listener wants from me?, I paid my debt with interest long time ago" asked Yimir putting again the bar in the fires, it was a slow and patient process; accelerating the creation of the first masterpiece would turn out as a complete failure.

"The listener ask you to perform the Silence once again" replied Muiri as she was instructed by his master to say when she reunites with the Dragonborn; Muiri wasn't very sure what the hell means the message but no one dares to offense the Listener.

"No" replied instantaneously Yimir " no more assassinations, the score is settled, thanks for the visit but do my a favor, will you?" the nord man look for a bottle of mead on the stone near the forge, the same place he has throw the dagger before.

"Remind the Listener I am no longer the Silencer, not any more" Yimir gulped down the mead in a second after that he threw back to Muiri her other poison dagger " although send her my regards, even considering all the past I still consider her a friend"

Muiri didn't replied back, mostly because she didn't understand much of what the man has told. It was obvious the man and the Listener had a past together and considering the legends that runs on the Sanctuary, it was quite a past.

Muiri just recover his dagger; nod once and disappeared in the shadows of the city like a bad dream leaving Yimir ; in bad mood; fueling the fires of the Skyforge and remembering his past as an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood.

It happens almost by casualty, not long after the discovering that he was the Dragonborn of this time. Yimir wasn't exactly sure what was his real age, during his time as thrall the time just passed by like a breeze, not he could...be aware of his own birthday; as not much more than a pet for his Vampire master, he only has to fight and die for a mere whim of his vampire lords.

When he regained his strength after the Helgen disaster and help Whiterun with the matter of the dragon just to discover he was the Dragonborn and be summoned to High Hrotgar. Yimir truly took his time to reach the Peak of the Greybeard monastery.

Skyrim is a land of beautiful landscapes and Yimir; tired of living into a damn cave or underground halls for divines know how long; was more than ready to explore the forest and lands of his homeland.

Travel along khajjit merchants, sharing danger and histories; travel with carriages of foods and meads from the Black-briar family to all holds of Skyrim, fight bandits, trolls, bears...once or two a Dragon appears in the sky as an ominous remembrance of what Yimir was.

The destiny slapped in the face within the city of Windhelm.

When he entered the city, he was ready to interview with Ulfrik about the dragons and the Thu´um and join the ranks of Stormcloaks. Yimir was a proud nord after all and he still maintained a grudge against the Empire who almost beheaded him, nor he can understand that the legionaries found him splitting the head of a Thalmor justicar with his own hands and he did some damage to the ones trying to arrest him.

However when he arrive to Windhelm, the capital of the Stormcloaks; what he found wasn't exactly what he expect. There were a lot of refugees of Morrowind and some argonians treated like garbage within the walls of the city, forced to live in the slums or in the docks.

The situation hit a soft spot in Yimir who fell very disappointed with the Stormcloaks.

When he meet Ralof in Helgen he was a good man, a man of honor and loyalty but this was nuts. Treating all other races of Tamriel like the Thalmor does?, what difference makes then?, Talos?, Talos is a divine for Akathosh sake, you can expect to erase a divine just by closing your eyes and shutting your ears and repeating yourself that it doesn't exist.

The city contain a curious secret although, a rumor, a whispered rumor about a kid who is performing the black sacrament, the pray to the night mother and call for the Dark brotherhood. Even during his time as slave he remembers very well the respect and fear his master has for the brotherhood. In recent times, the fear has turn indifference instead; looks like the brotherhood was losing foot in all Tamriel.

Its something that always manage to astonish every single person who knows Yimir, how he can have a lot of obscure knowledge and still be so ignorant of simple things of life, like the situation of Skyrim, the name of the emperor, what happened to the Winterhold mage college; things that are common knowledge for a nord; on the other hand he has a deep knowledge of religion and magic theories united with a big knowledge of monsters and whats more important, how to kill them.

Being the favorite brawn of his Thalmor vampire master had the advantages that he was trained for fighting very well against all kind of enemies; some of them far beyond the common races that populated Tamriel.

Aventus Aretino; good kid, tortured kid, when Yimir meet the kid for the first time he saw a lot of similarities between them, both has his own scars in the soul; however the kid asked Yimir for a killing, believing that Yimir was an agent of the Night mother.

Nothing of the sort of course, no way in hell; Yimir was a fighter; a battle mage yeah but in essence a fighter; not exactly the stealthy type that will match with the requisites of the dark brotherhood. They talk about the objective, a nasty old woman called Grelod and nicknamed the Kind. The irony was beyond words.

Yimir thought that perhaps was a good idea to check out this kid affirmations; in any case Riften was in his way to Ivarstead and the pilgrimage of the seven thousands stairs up to High Hrotgar and his meeting with the greybeards.

He buy a quick travel in a carriage from windhelm to Riften. But not before he get involved in a series of strange and curious incidents within the city. For being the headquarters of the Stormcloaks they really are a bit messed up.

At last, everything end up well; more or less; in Skyrim there is a continuous sense of irony, present in every single action you do; not to mention you always had the sensation that there is something more than you could do. But life is short and winter long so little regrets can one have If he is dead; slay by some bandits, trolls o whatever ambushes you on the road.

Very friendly man the carriage driver, he give Yimir some good advices about the situation in Riften, how the thieves guild was the top dog of the place but in recent years they have been reduced to not much more than a group of rats and thugs hiding in the Ratway; the unique labyrinth under the city.

Today the real power was the Black-briar family, owners of the Black-briar meadery and the most wealthy and influential family in the hold; they had ties with the thieves guild; and in whispers there were rumors about their connections with the dark brotherhood too.

Yimir hated them the instant he saw the mother of the family and his behavior with everyone around her. The woman called Maven was a cold hag with only gold and power in his heart and mind, and his children weren't exactly for the better.

A crazy alchemist daughter, a cruel and arrogant first son and a bigmouth second son were the full cast of this dysfunctional family; unfortunately, they were the real rulers of Riften, the Jarl Layla wasn't exactly the sharpest of the Jarls; she did a good job although, maintaining the city in one piece.

The orphanage was a real curious place; Yimir entered the place and spoke to a real kind woman called Constance; a breton name if he was right; the lady was afraid that he can not help Yimir about anything, Grelod, the Orphanage head caretaker didn't allow anyone to adopt any child.

At the moment Yimir entered in the place he witness a grotesque scene about how Grelod insult and promises painful tortures; destroys their dreams with harsh words and the poor children still has to gave thanks to the old hag.

Something broke inside Yimir head, when Constance went to his room and turn his back to Yimir, the man pick an arrow and shot the hag right between the eyebrows, smashing the fragile body into the wall, leaving her like a crazy trophy. The string of the bow rips too because of the rage with Yimir has tensed the bow .

Before anyone can even wonder what the hell has happened, Yimir had already banish from the orphanage, directly to the inn called the Bee and Barb; owned by a stressed couple of argonians; fortunately they had a very good mead available for his clients.

That day he left Riften, very disappointed with his homeland.

There was prejudices; cruelty, incompetent Jarls, this was a messed but still beautiful land. Buying a horse in the stables of Riften, Yimir went into the road again, the only place he has found so far where there is honesty.

The fauna wants you to became their dinner and that's all, there is not personal feelings behind it.

Ivarstead.

Nice and quiet place with a curious tomb, inhabited by the undead monsters called draugr; remnants of an old era where part of the nord revered the dragons as goods; they are still paying that choice or so is the word among the erudite that investigates the matter of the draugr.

Ah, but inside the Shroud hearth barrow not only there was draugr and a crazy but funny at the same time secret, it also contained a word, a very special word.

It was almost funny how the things went. Not long after arrive to Ivarstead and seek out a mead and a good dinner inside the local inn, the owner of the place Wilhelm, tell him about the mysteries of the barrow near the village, with a smile on his face, Yimir entered the barrow that same night, despite he was felling tired from the travel.

A good mystery to solve was exactly what he needs to wake up and to win some septims, the life on the road is not exactly the more profitable and raiding tombs; especially this draugr plagued tombs was extremely dangerous and extremely profitable at the same time.

After reveal all the mysteries of the place and found another of that claws of precious metal, Yimir founded a real treasure under the earth; the final resting place of a man called Helg. Inscribed on the walls, the first word of a new Thu´um.

The felling of the word penetrating his mind and soul and resonating with his body was one of the best sensations he had ever since his recently gained freedom, it was really worth the effort of traveling under the tomb and fight against the undead monstrosities.

Yimir tried to shout like he did when the defeated his first dragon in Whiterun; exulting with the recently found power but the shout died in his throat; he still hasn't perfected it, he lacks knowledge of the word, he lacks power.

Confused he shouted the word the obtained when he slayed his first dragon, the force coming through his Thu´um send everything not anchored to the walls or floor flying in every direction.

The Grey beards would have the solution of the enigma perhaps...and of course they will have the answer about why by Akatosh was he capable now of reading the damn letters inscribed on the wall?.

Just a second ago they were just some inscriptions and now they had become the epitaph of a man called Helg, follower of Kryne whose shout could tame the beast. Reading the epitaph Yimir understood the word but he still couldn't master it; channeling his very essence into the Thu´um that was the true Nordic art.

The pilgrimage however didn't reveal him exactly the wisdom he was looking for, instead the grey beards offered him the way of the voice; a path to achieve enlighten through mastering the Thu´um and the power that comes with it.

Yimir learned from the Grey beards all he could, his philosophy was a little to slow for him but he understood then a lot of things; from his recently awakened powers as Dragonborn to the Thu´um really origin and true power.

Dragon souls, that was the real fuel for his powers. He must hunt down and devour the souls of the flying beasts in order to absorb some of his strength so he can channel and understand the words of power that conform the Thu´um.

Quite the feat and quite the ingredient so to speak.

Thanking the Grey beard and ready to travel in order to fill the search of the horn they asked for as final trial in order to be fully recognized as Dragon born, Yimir went down High Hrothgar back to Ivarstead.

He really need a good night of sleep; especially after being shouting all day with the Grey beards; the Thu´um is physically exhausting, one can not shout as easy as it sounds, every single word contains a lot of power; more words you add to your Thu´um, more power do you need to channel and more exhausting you will be after wards.

The real problem came the next morning.

Yimir was pretty sure that he has rented a room in Vilemyr inn, so when he awoke in the middle of a cottage, in the middle of anywhere with a shrouded woman with a very dangerous knife in front of him, he understand that he has just stepped himself into a real problem.

Yimir had already recognized the Dark Brotherhood symbol on the clothes of the woman; the most dangerous assassins in Tamriel had just kidnap him.

This isn't going to be fun at all.


	4. Chapter Two Debts must be paid (II)

**DISCLAIMER: I dont own Skyrim Bethesda does**

Skyrim

Skyforge

Midnight

The memories of the past arose in Yimir head; as he continues his job as blacksmith, heating, forging and heating again the ebony metal, shaping it into a good sword, the first of the two master pieces he were intending to forge.

The visit of Muiri; now an assassin of the dark brotherhood; has bring back some memories, good and bad ones together; when he was free at last on Skyrim and what he done since that time to the present day. In a Skryrim united under the rule of Ulfrik Stormcloak and with the threat of Alduin finally ended.

He whispered again over the red heat metal; engraving a word of power in the very core of the weapon. An idea he had while he was enchanting an axe for one of his sisters in the Companions; the usual enchantments are done by magic but...isn't the Thu´um some kind of magic itself?, more pure perhaps than the incantations and spells Tamriel knows.

Guided by that inspiration, started the forging of two weapons, one of them will be forged that night, under the moon and in the fires of the Skyforge.

Leaving the sword again over the fire, he sat in the stone near the forge and open a bottle of mead; forging leaves one thirsty and the new reserve of mead of the Bannered mare was very good; not the Black briar mead but something different.

Drinking in silence, Yimir remembered his time with the Dark brotherhood and the deeds he accomplish in that time for settle the score with another vampire.

The irony of the situation was astonishing; free thanks to a vampire; bounded by honor to be in servitude of a Vampire again.

The first time he entered into the Sanctuary; Astrid, the leader of the brotherhood saluted him and explain what were the simple but clear rules of the sanctuary in Skyrim. Honor your family and be professional. In all honesty Yimir found that two principles quite satisfying; until now he has been alone in the surface of Skyrim, no friends apart from Ralof of the Stormcloaks.

Not the Dark brotherhood of Skyrim is not with his own share of pariah and misfitting personalities.

An argonian shadowscale; a redguard assassin, a vampire child, a crazy old magician, a psychotic dunmner and a werewolf; this last one was the husband of Astrid, the leader of this happy bunch of assassins that consider themselves a family.

And Yimir was throw in the middle of them as a new recruit.

At the beginning, Yimir was on the verge of killing them all at sight; they were nothing but a group of assassins and bastards with no respect for life or anything but Yimir wasn't exactly the most innocent of the group.

He did and will kill people; most of the times in self defense; and he can understand the other members of this crazy family. He was as pariah as the rest of them, a vampire thrall recently liberated by who know why or by whose hands.

A discovery he did hours later, when he was speaking with the family.

Babette. Vampire child of three hundred years old; expert alchemist and poisoner, one of the most respected members of the family. Who happens to be the killer of the Thalmor vampire novice that was enslaving the mind of Yimir in Skyrim.

Yimir look at the children very confused. He hated vampires and Thalmor with all his heart; and now reveals that the instrument of his liberation was a vampire child who smiled delighted by the irony of finding that the favorite toy of an old enemy is now one of her little brothers in the Dark brotherhood.

Both talk very seriously about his common enemy and about what exactly means to Yimir his freedom. Just to be sure there was no trap in anyone side. Paranoia and suspicion was common tools in her line of work, after all, most of the assassinations of Babette depends on her abilities to earn the confidence of his target and rip his throat open when it downs his guard.

The child laughed with irony; it was truth, Yimir was the favorite plaything of one of the most hated Vampires of Tamriel, a Thalmor lord with deep connections inside the Aldmer dominion and a complete elven supremacist that wants to rebuild an Aldmer Imperium with the Aldmer on the top and the rest as slaves and workforce.

Yimir found the little vampire intriguing, disturbing and fascinating at the same time, he has never chat with one of his kind like this; all the interactions he had till the moment where mostly resume in three kind of results.

Food, sex toy or meat shield.

First time in his live that a vampire teases him with humor instead of directly humiliating him with harsh words or directly a whip and a torture room. He found the situation refreshing for saying the last.

Dressed like and assassin of the brotherhood, Yimir sighed and traveled across the lands of Skyrim performing silent assassinations until his debt with Babette was cleared; fortunately for Yimir he was a quick learner and most important he has learn some quick illusion spells compensating his lack of stealth.

Never in his time as thrall has needed stealth; he was a front line fighter not an silent assassin. Luckily they allow him to keep a bow for the works, with a bow he was a competent marksman, not as good as a full fledged hunter but at last he could put an arrow in the head of his target silently and from long distance instead of having to run like a madman from the guards.

Yimir doesn't want at all a reward over his head; he never considered himself a criminal..but the moral deviousness of the Dark brotherhood was starting to quell his nerves; not to mention the always present idea of being again working with a vampire.

Damn honor and damn destiny. By the Nine, it was impossible to survive in this kind of situation, the only good part of all this disaster was the constant training in combat that he was doing every time he wasn't on a mission.

He remembered the occasion that marked the start of the series of events that lead to the rise of the Dark brotherhood again and the paid of the debt of Yimir with the vampire child. An event that started almost casually, when he was training with the two most combat oriented members of the brotherhood in one of that few peaceful days without contracts.

Yimir and Veezara glared each other from the tip of his blades, moving in circles looking for an opening. Looking from outside of the circle Arnbjorn was observing at them frowning because the cautious style of fighting both were displaying.

"Kill the newbie at once Veezara" shouted the giant nord, werewolf and the husband of Astrid " stop toying with him".

At his side was the rest of the Brotherhood except Astrid who was negotiating a contract outside the sanctuary, somewhere in Markath Yimir believe..

"Stop shouting big dog" laughed Festo, the old mage " Veezara is no fool, and the lad is not leaving any opening, if Veezara atacks now he would be disemboweled so quick he would even notice".

Babette; the vampire child; and Gabriella, the dunmer psychotic exchange some whispers about the combat and laughed warily. Nazir the redguard only smiled and teased the nord about some bets to do the combat more entertaining.

"Fah" snorted Arnbjorn " Fifty septims for Veezara, the newby has nothing to do against a shadowscale".

"I see that fifty and go up to one hundred" replied Festo smiling.

"This is turning into a circus" whispered Veezara to Yimir, who simply change his stance into a more suitable position, smiling. Knowing very well he can don nothing about it.

Veezara was holding a sharp sword; nordic craftsmanship no doubt judging from the appearance of the weapon; Yimir wasn't sure if the blade has any attachments added but doesn't matter. The argonian was skilled enough to kill you even with a wooden knife, and the real trap was his claws.

By personal experience, Yimir was conscious that the khajit and argonian races had nails long enough at the end of their finger to be capable of killing as good as any beast. Veezara was only wielding a sword but Yimir knew that was only a fluke.

That's why he was using two weapons, to compensate the claws and the sword of his brother. An axe and a dagger, Nordic craftsmanship as well; Arnbjorn works most probably; sharp and strong weapons.

Yimir was hiding the fact that he has already surpass the skill of his werewolf brother in the forge, the proud wolf is difficult to handle even in the best of the situations, so it was for the best not to hurt his pride so he doesn't eat Yimir alive.

Veezara did the first movement; a quick thrust with the sword aiming for the head; Yimir blocked it easily, moving aside with the dagger to counter attack with his axe. Veezara moved backwards and the blade of the axe only hit the air.

This simple movements were the prelude of a series of feints between them at the same the weapons clashed and resonated on the cavern of the Sanctuary; after a few minutes of duel, even the rest of the brotherhood were silent, watching in admiration and respect the movement of the two fighters.

In the little time Yimir has been with this odd family; he has earn the respect of all the rest of the brotherhood and now he was standing toe to toe with one of the few shadowscales that remains in Tamriel.

The blades of his weapons sang a song of battle and fury; although they were supposedly training, they could very well kill each other if his opponent was careless or not skilled enough. There is no place for incompetence or laziness in the dark brotherhood.

Veezara attacked Yimir in a series of thrusts, in order to lower his guard and leave his face open for a claw in the eyes; Yimir reacted quickly and in a demonstration of sleight of hands, he twisted his opponent wrist forcing him to leave his sword.

The argonian used that moment to try to disembowel Yimir with his free claws, the nails of the claw, sharp and long enough to gutter a man in a second rebounded against the flat side of the axe blade without any harm. Surprises by the block, Veezara grip the wrist of Yimir; the one with the dagger; and toss him aside in order to made the man lost his balance and give him time to recover his sword.

Yimir didn't offer any resistance to the movement; being toss around some steps ahead. Veezara duck with dexterity and quickness, recovering his sword from the floor but at the moment he was standing back again in a fighting pose he notices a sudden impact in his armor.

The dagger of Yimir rebounded against the argonian armor; instead of the blade, the grip has impact against his opponent and fell to the ground without any harm. Both stopped the combat, I was clear that Yimir has won this round; the dagger could have very easily pierce the leather armor and Veezara heart easily if instead of the handle was the blade the one who hit.

Both could ear the diverse exchange of gold and insults occurring within the spectators; Arnbjron was on the verge of killing Festo and Nazir was counting money with a sufficient smile on his face. Neither Gabriella or Babette were to be seen around, they could leave any time during the combat; neither of them were specially interested on physical combat.

"You have improve a lot in short time brother" congrats Veezara retrieving the dagger and throwing it back to Yimir who catches it in mid air and sheathed within a simple yet agile movement.

"Thanks brother" shrugged Yimir " I practice a lot" smiled, remembering Veezara all the contracts and travels he has been doing during his time as assassin, he really didn't appreciate the job but he owed his freedom thanks Babette and he has still to fulfill his debt.

"No wonder Babette is so proud of you" hissed the argonian with humor " his big Nord baby has grow quite a bit" teased Veezara.

It was a long run joke among the brotherhood that was Babette actions that freed Yimir from being a vampire thrall and that the Nord obliged by his personal honor code was paying his debt by joining the Dark brotherhood until he could pay his debt with the vampire child.

A life for a life, a death for a death. No more debts, score settled.

Quite simply, yet everybody in the Brotherhood respected the code because is very similar to his own code; although the Dark brotherhood of Skyrim was more like a family than the usual sanctuaries.

So; following this line of thought; Babette, a three hundred years old vampire in form of a human Nord little girl joked a lot about his big and strong little Nord kid. Yimir let her be, after all he has not really idea what the hell the other found so amusing, until now anything related to a family and how it supposed it was ;except from what the read in all the books he could find in his travels; was a complete blank space for him .

Books are a very good thing; they taught a lot of useful, funny or directly disturbing things, he already appreciated them when he was a Thrall, was the only source of evasion from his life of servitude and slavery.

"Fah " imitated Yimir his werewolf brother " big baby wants mead" joked sheathing the axe and moving to the chambers inside the Sancturary, after a very well paid job, Yimir keep a box of black-briar mead reserve as extra loot, drinking it every-time he had a moment of leisure.

Veezara smiled and let the nord go in the seek of his well earned mead and prepared himself for some extra meditation, after the combat he will review again all the movements and feints looking for his mistakes and train after that to correct them.

He was a shadowscale, they live for assassination; born with the sign of the shadows in his body and minds.

Yimir on the other hand was very busy searching for his booze and gulping it down with the help of some venison and bread; the exercise always give him hungry and this was the perfect moment to eat some delayed breakfast.

"Astrid is looking for you brother" called Nazir from the upper side of the chambers, where the rooms were placed; the dining room were Yimir was enjoying his well earned lunch was excavated at the bottom of the rock as a common dining hall " he has some special work to you and the un-child".

Nazir was a sarcastic bastard on his best days but the never played around when it comes to money and the jobs of the brotherhood, so Yimir sighed and finish his delayed breakfast quickly, moving to the office of the leader of the brotherhood but with a bottle of mead in the hand.

Some kind of six sense was telling him he would need it and judging how the last jobs has been increasing in difficulties and problems; his six sense was for the most of the time completely right about everything.

Yimir was surprised although, when he founded Babette and Astrid talking over the map of Skyrim the leader had over his desk, they must be planning something big and serious considering all the planing and leg work Yimir has been doing for them recently. For very specific individuals to deliver some strange goods to very odd people in Riften.

¿How the hell is supposed to do business with anyone if just for talk to them you need to kill half a dozen of people in the ratway?.

Riften again; that place was a total mess; Yimir never want to know anything about the place, but the children in the orphanage and the Mara temple has nothing to blame; and he is still in good terms with some people of the city.

"Ah, Yimir, come and join us, I have a different work for you" said Astrid after noticing his arrival to the chamber.

"As you wish leader" shrugged Yimir drinking a little of his delicious mead, the only reason he has not kill yet all the Black-briar family. They really do good mead.

Babette smiled with the obedience of the man; although she has considered transforming him into another child of the night. After some serious thought about it, she reached the conclusion that his transformation will only turn the nord from an ally to a very dangerous and determined hunter, perhaps the man has deceived the other members of the brotherhood with his easygoing style of life charade but for Babette there was a storm under the skin of his brother.

A storm that was only waiting to be liberated and sweep anything in his way. Babette hoped to never be caught in his way.

"I take you have chat with our particular keeper" sighed Astrid who was not very pleased with the presence of the keeper or the night mother by the case.

"The jester?" raised an eyebrow Yimir " Aye, I talk to him not so long after he and Night mother arrived" surprisingly, he has already meet the keeper; when he helped the buffoon to fix the carriage carrying the coffin of the Night mother somewhere near the farms of Whiterun.

"Or more accurate; I patiently listen to his ramblings about the Night mother, the brotherhood, killing a flower, something about a horker and a wife, oiling the Night mother, the five tenets and a sweet roll...not very sure about this last part though".

"Aye the same creepy bastard" smiled Astrid " I'm afraid the buffoon may have been playing betraying us".

Babette and Yimir shared a quick glance; both of them were completely astonished by that news; the keeper of the Night mother was nothing but loyal to the Dark brotherhood, however his discomfort with the actual state of the Sanctuary was clear for all around him.

"That's...odd" shrugged Yimir who has nothing against the buffon; Its very hard to tolerate his presence and constant madness but in general, he was doing a good job as keeper and member of the brotherhood " I was convinced of his loyalty; what makes you think that he is plotting a betrayal?" asked Yimir directly, drinking from his mead.

"We all know he is completely out of his mind" started Astrid " but in recent times, when he is alone with the Night mother he started to talk to another person and complete conversations, there is response but no one of us is capable to ear who is the other person in the room".

"And you want us to do...?" leave an space Babette to Astrid to clarify what exactly the leader want from them. Babette always found an strange pleasure in his missions with Yimir; the irony of his situation provide her with unlimited fun and the nord mas was one of the more competent warriors she has ever seen.

"I want you to infiltrate in the chambers and hide inside the coffin" said to Babette " while you and I will wait outside the chambers just in case something goes wrong" turn his face to Yimir.

"Unexpected" shrugged Yimir as response to the leaders orders, trying by all means not to laugh in front of Babette. She is the one who has to embrace a mummy and listen to the ramblings of a mad man.

Yimir couldn't even fathom what happened next. The infiltration was a succeed indeed, they performed Astrid orders to the letter; the problem came immediately after, when Cicero discovered the presence of Babette inside the coffin, luckily for the little vampire, Yimir threw a dagger just in time to disarm Cicero before he could stab Babette in the heart.

The real commotion came an instant late when Babette, falling from inside the coffin with an expression of total confusion muttering some words that would shake the brotherhood till his foundations.

"Darkness rise when silence dies" whispered raising his little and confused vampire head and looking intensely at Cicero.

The change in the man was instantaneously; from killing intent to total happiness in a second; just in case Yimir and Astrid still has his hands on the grip of his weapons but the situation was as confusing as potentially miraculous.

"A Listener!" the jester shouted the words that were in everybody minds; he was in ecstasy by the event after son many years of silence " mother has chosen a listener at last!, there is a listener!".

Astrid was shocked; so was Yimir, but the nord was even more worried considering that he still was paying his debt with Babette and now the child has became the most important person of the brotherhood.

"This is nuts" shacked his head Astrid incapable of understand anything that was happening in front of him.

Yimir on the other hand, already has some experience with the daedra and the divines; mostly traumatic experiences; they are unfathomable for the common mortal minds, when Babette said the words, he knew instantaneously he was in deep shit.

The word spread quickly inside the sanctuary, we have at last a Listener; for some of the member it was a bless, for others just another worrisome; in both cases every body knew that the changes are just started and In all honesty, all of them were afraid.

Yimir?, lets just say that he was already worried enough with his position to sum up Babette new status. He was in the brotherhood just because his own sense of honor; a little twisted sense of honor but he maintains loyal to that principles no matter what.

Something that he proved and by far when the last act of this drama was played.


	5. Chapter Three Debts must be paid (III)

Skyrim

Skyforge

Midnight

Yimir raised the blade from the fires of the forge; it was almost ready; only one step more and the weapon would be ready to the handle and the symbol of the Skyforge.

It was something he started to develop not so long ago he started to work in the forge as something usual; Eorlund was growing old, he was an old stubborn Nord that would die with his hands on a hammer but he was clever enough to recognize that his old age was starting to take the toll.

Yimir was only acting as a substitute until another capable blacksmith came up from the companions or any other place, as Harbringer, Yimir has very clear that no matters the origin, its the talent and the efficiency that would make the next forger for the Sky forge.

There was already a candidate; the strong and proud owner of the battle maiden, Adrianne; she did talk with him already about the idea of taking the place of Eourlund but Yimir rejected it, not because the woman was lacking skill; actually was the other way around, she was quite a competent blacksmith.

The problem was more complicated that it looks, because it has his origin on something far more difficult that simply be able to smith a sword or an armor. The fires of the Skyforge chooses the blacksmith, as simply as that.

If the forge didn't recognize you, you can work all you want but your piece will never be as good as Eorlund for example; the fires of the forge contains the spirit and the will of a lot of blacksmiths and Harbingers of the past, so they are quite selective with his picks.

Yimir was only prolonging the time before the apprentice of Eorlund ; whoever will be; appears at last. In the meantime, having the Skyforge at his disposal was a very good perk from the Harbringer job. Actually a very handy perk, if it wasn't for it, he would have to create his masterpieces on a lesser forge.

Time flies when you are having fun as the says goes, when Yimir finished his first masterpiece; the midnight has already pass but the moon was still full in the sky above Tamriel; tomorrow he will reunite with some old friends and trusted companions, speaking about the future and the actions he will take in order to achieved a long dream he had since he became the Dragonborn.

There was rumors of other Dragonborns; people who can use the Thu´um too apart form him or Ulfrik; not the Greybeards or Parrthurnax had say a word about it but Yimir suspected there is no need of Dragonborn blood to be able to shout as good as a dragon.

Only perseverance and determination with no less patience and concentration. The Way of the Voice is hard but rewarding; Yimir has only the luck to be able to learn more quickly than others.

The last hit of the hammer leave the blade ready for being wield in the name of any cause his owner could defend. Yimir raised the sword to the night and start praying, consecrating the sword to all Nine divines.

He has been always a faithfull person; it was impossible not to be considering how his path has been crossed by all the divines and all the daedras; from a simple favor, to a hunt, to look out for the next Sibilla, Yimir ran errands for all of them; some with honor and faith, other with disgust and insolence.

In any case the deities are present on the world and it would be foolish not to be cautious around them, they can destroy all your life on a whim unless you are prepared or under the protection of another one.

The sword was still hot in the hands of Yimir; still resonating with the fires of the forge and that was a good thing, it was only a matter of enchant the blade and it will be ready for his baptism in blood next time Yimir gets caught on a fight to the death.

Considering who and what he was; it wouldn't be long before the opportunity arrives.

The fires crackled suddenly when he was leaving the sword to cool over the stone next to the forge, there is a large work of grindstone ahead of him in order to put some edge on the blade of the sword but the fires awaken again the memories of Yimir reconnecting them with the time he pass as an assassin of the brotherhood and the title of Silencer.

"You sure about this Listener?" asked Yimir eating a sweet roll as dessert for the meal he has had as personal reward for a job well done "I wager Astrid doesn't agree with that idea, not to mention your personal spectre here doesn't look very pleased either" pointed Yimir to the spectral figure of an assassin standing in the corner of the room; the blue spectre was a constant companion for Babette since his new title of Listener.

Yimir couldn't hear a word of anything he could say but as odd it sounds, he was capable of saw the ghost perfectly well; something that only can happen with magic or the spectre wants to revel himself to the possible witness.

"So much I already figured" grinned Babette toying with one of his last creations in alchemy; one mixture that gives you the strength of a troll but his brains too, Gabriella tested on his last job and inform back to Babette of very interesting results "but there is no other way, Mother spoke and the Listener must obey".

"Aye, I know the theory" shrugged Yimir munching the last piece of his dessert and looking for another one " its the practice that worries me, Astrid will never tolerate that challenge against her leadership and you know it better than anyone Listener"

"And that's where you enters" smiled Babette and Yimir stopped eating not liking where the conversation was heading " the Listener, the keeper and the four Speakers, that's the hierarchy of the brotherhood, before the assassination of the emperor, the brotherhood must recover his traditions and regain the bless of Sithis".

Babette leave the bottle of the mixture on the table, jumping from the chair to the floor, even after all his years of existence, she still has the body of a Nord child, something that bothered her in the past but today find tremendously useful for his line of work.

"All the ranks had in the past a curious secret; the hidden rank of Silencer, a rank granted only to the best of the brotherhood to deal with betrayers, defilers or whatever loose ends the brotherhood stepped into".

Yimir gaze Babette, leave the rest of his half eaten sweet roll over the dinner table and with a sight said:

"With all respect to the Listener and the Night mother...Sithis, NO".

Babette laughed weakly, she has already predicted her brother resistance and repulse to the mere idea of being her private Silencer.

Nice title over the paper but the reality will be that Yimir would be once again in servitude under a vampire, something he would never tolerate, no matter the circumstances. As a Vampire thrall, Yimir had experience a lot of traumas and humiliation, being complete under the command of an elven supremacist who thought that all other races were less more than playthings at the best.

No matter the brotherhood, the title of Silencer or any other consideration, in resume he would be again under servitude.

"I get It brother" smiled Babette "and I will not push you but perform one single task as Silencer for me and the score will be settled" that was the carrot at the end of the stick " oh, and bring this to Gabriella will you?" pass the little bottle to Yimir "she is waiting for it".

The only reason a person like Yimir didn't already send all the brotherhood to Sithis was because his sense of honor and the fact that the person who liberated him from the grasp of his vampire master was Babette.

Yimir didn't answer at all to Babette, just stand silent and looking the little vampire child with a serious gaze; he was clever enough to see the stick, once one has sign to be the Silencer there will be no turn back; bounded forever to the Dark brotherhood.

The clearing of his debt?, nice but inconsequential on the long run, if he accepted the task of being the Silencer of the Listener; he will be tied for the rest of his life to obey the commands of the Listener. Who happens to be a vampire.

No thanks, By the Nine, he didn't get free from one to be slaved by another, no matter how golden the cage is. The vampire has still let clear one thing, until the debt is settle, a life for a life, Yimir will continue to be an assassin under the command of the Listener.

It was a win/win situation for Babette and unless a miracle occurs or all the brotherhood dies mysteriously, Yimir was not seeing any possible solution to the dilemma. What is worse, since the vampire was transformed into the Listener, his moods and behavior has changed a lot.

The day before the Night mother spoke to her, she was devote to Astrid to the core. Now she is trying to reestablish the ranks of the Brotherhood relegating Astrid to a secondary place.

She was trying to destroy the family that was so proud about not so long ago; transforming them into a more suitable organization in the standards of Sithis and the Night mother. Her time as Listener doesn't look to have done any well for her and Yimir was trapped into the crossfire.

Sighing, Yimir took the bottle and carry it to Gabriella, the dunmer sister of the brotherhood has developed a recent interest in some of the most odds alchemy mixtures Yimir has ever heard, some of they looks like poison but others looks more like some kind of stimulants or hallucinogens. Yimir hoped that the crazy dunmer wasn't experimenting with skoma, that would be a disaster, the girl was already crazy enough.

Fortunately for Yimir, in this occasion, the potion Gabriella was looking for was oriented to...arouse some passions more than her usual deadly poisons. After all the time spent together, there is no doubt that Gabriella was a woman of refined yet simple tastes.

On recent days she was grow obsessed with the idea of his own death, so instead of running away from that death, she prefer to enjoy his last days. And among that enjoys includes a savage night full of hot sex with the only brother that was attractive to her.

Yimir found himself with a hideous headache the next morning, laying completely naked under the sheets and furs on the bed of Gabriella. The dunmer woman was laying by his side, partially embracing him as naked as he was, snoring peacefully with a face of satisfaction.

Yimir raised an eyebrow; not having the slightest idea what by Shor bones has happened here. He free from the embrace of Gabriella that sighted on his dreams, leaving the dunmer covered with the furs of his bed, putting some clothes on and went directly in a search of a remedy for the headache.

The first person he stumbled upon after leaving Gabriella quarters was Nazir, who didn't doubt a second before tease his brother about his latest sexual misadventures with the favorite dunmer of the brotherhood.

"Ah, good morning brother, Is there still enough of you to carry on the will of Sithis?" smiled the Red guard with sauciness " or perhaps you need some time to recover after your last and exhausting job?, did the victim scream a lot?, did her call some deities on her moment of agony?".

"Nazir..." muttered Yimir sitting on one chair in the dinner room, massaging his forehead trying to appease the headache " pass me a fresh mead or kill me, I don't care either ways but in Sithis name don't talk so loud" .

The Redguard laughed hard and the sound was like nails in Yimir head; he need some remedy asap but the official alchemist were Babette and Gabriella, both of them look out of service at this moment.

Using the cold glass of the mead bottle as substitute for a remedy; Yimir put it against his head and looked at Nazir, the Red guard was there for a reason, not only for teasing Yimir after his night of passion with Gabriella. He can deduct from the Red guard words that perhaps both of them had been a little to enthusiastic and loud during the sex.

Something that Yimir was already paying; the Red guard would be teasing both of them for ages...but in the beginning of the friendly teasing there was some more important message to hear.

"What does Sithis need of me?" asked Yimir trying to concentrate in the job and killing the headache; he would use a restoration spell in order to get rid of it but for that, concentration is needed, something he couldn't call upon on that morning.

"You must travel to Solitude asap" smiled Nazir going into business and letting the teasing for another more peaceful moment " the little...the Listener needs you there prepared to carry on the assassination of the Emperor".

"Yismir beard" muttered Yimir who saw the abyss opening under his feet by the moment.

Carry on the assassination and be the most wanted criminal of Skyrim or betray the Dark brotherhood and run like there was no tomorrow...nice choices.

And Yimir did run but not the way he intended.

All the mission at first impression, looks like an elaborated prank from Babette. He must pose as the Gastronome; the most eminent authority in culinary arts of Skyrim, his book, Uncommon taste was one of the favorites of Yimir.

Pity he has to die in order to achieve the assassination of the Emperor but it was to late for Yimir to have a word in the matter; Babette and Festus has already plotted everything but they need a third hand to deliver the poison to the emperor and be capable of run away from Solitude without dying or being captured in the process.

And the Emperor died; poisoned in an instant. A second after all the guards and soldiers of the Penitus Oculatus charge all over Yimir trying to kill him; fortunately it was already negotiated an exit.

Or that whats Yimir had understood of all this mess.

In reality, Commander Maro was waiting for him on the exit route with some of his best men; Yimir cleave his path upon them; sending pieces of the legionaries bodies all over the Solitude walls. Incapable of using his shouts, so his identity wasn't revealed.

Would be a real nightmare if the people discovers that the Dragonborn was an assassin from the brotherhood, his Whiterun Thane title will be revoked almost instantaneously not to mention Lydia will flay him when she discovers it; for a Housecarl Lydia could be very overprotective.

Fighting with magicka and steel, Yimir finally found a place in the wall from one could jump into the port water without killing himself in the process. The real problem though has just begun.

The Sanctuary will be attacked soon by all the Penitus Oculatus man power Commander Maro was able to reunite. Yimir traveled fast, almost killing a poor horse but when he arrived to the Sanctuary near Falkreath is was already too late, the place was already on fire.

Yimir remembers that combat and the dramatic situation inside the Sanctuary with perfect clarity.

"Over there, that's the other big nord" Yimir listened the legionary pointing in his direction and thanks to that he was able to pinpoint his location and sent an arrow into his chest before the poor cretin was able to unsheathe his sword.

He could only shot a couple of arrow more before he was surrounded by a group of soldiers, ready to kill him, all of them were Penitus Oculatus, over the paper they were the elite of the Empire; soldiers prepared to be the Emperor hands and protectors.

Yimir smiled and unsheathe his axe and sword, they were alone in the middle of the field, so that means there will be no witness, so that means he was able to go wild since the beginning; as so did him.

The first Penitus attacked with a short sword directly to Yimir stomach; he blocked the sword, twisted his wrist moving the attacker to the right and slice his throat with the axe leaving a line of blood in the floor. The second one learned from the the first victim and collaborated with another of his companions to surround Yimir and put him on the defensive.

Yimir saw the last of the Penitus in the back accumulating magicka; he was preparing a destruction spell, something powerful and at the same time not with burst enough to kill his companions.

Blocking the incoming atacks Yimir moved to a better position for his own counter attack; if the magician need a clear path to shot his spell, Yimir need all the Penitus to be in one single place, if not half of his counterattack will go waste.

Yimir suffered some minor wounds trying to obtain a better position, the swords were dancing from both sides, it was only thanks to all the training he has done with Veezara and Arnbjorn that the soldiers didn't kill him.

His shout was the signal that the soldiers were in position, a shout is something fearful, with just some words you cause a real impressive effect on the reallity around you; not to mention It tends to impress the people who is not accustom or has no idea what they are fighting against.

" Zun Haal Viik!" shouted Yimir at the weapons of the Penitus that can only saw how his sword went flying from his hands to the floor; being disarmed in an instant, even the magician sense confused how his sheathed sword was trying to follow the others to the floor.

That second of confusion was all Yimir needed; learning very well from his lesson with his brother of the Sanctuary about the importance of the surprise and a good feint, he attacked and put and end to the combat. He has more important things to do.

He send flying his axe against the mage; piercing his armor and burying all the blade on his chest, the sword of his other hand sliced the throat of one of the Penitus and when the other tried to react by unseating another weapon, Yimir grab him from the back of his head and force him to headbutt the tip of the blade in a very nasty but impressive movement.

Recovering his weapons, Yimir run into the Sanctuary with another arrow prepared in his bow; near the entrance of the Sanctuary he found the corpse of Festus, covered in arrows to the point it was impossible to even recognize his face; only thanks to his clothes and rings was able Yimir to recognize the old mage.

Shooting an arrow to one sentinel on the black door Yimir could fell the immense heat from inside, the flames were devouring all the Sanctuary and the Penitus Oculatus were exterminating the family.

Charging inside Yimir dispatch another pair of Penitus who were joking over the naked corpse of Veezara; ignoring the flames, he kneel beside the body of his friend and closed his eyes; the argonian was a good brother, serious and serene with space for the humor when it was needed; a good travel companion killed by treachery.

His anger fueled his body again, shooting the last arrows of his quiver to the assassins of Arnbjorn, that were cutting the werewolf body like it was only a piece of meat in the market. The nord hasn't gone down without a good fight, even transforming into his werewolf form he has killed a dozen of Penitus but in the end, even the gift of Hircine wasn't enough for survive.

Throwing his bow and unsheathing his weapons again, Yimir charged directly into a group of Penitus Oculatus praying on his mind to Sithis, so his werewolf brother could reach the Hunting grounds.

"Su Grah Dum!" the power of the shout accelerated Yimir body, with the extra speed his weapons were a blur of movement that wound, cut and slice through the bodies of the Penitus like a hot knife through butter.

The combination of his nord strength, sharp and heavy steel blades and whirlwind speed was devastating and in seconds he was the only person alive. Surrounded by the corpses of his enemies, Yimir took out a second to think about how precise his style of combat has became since the joined the Brotherhood.

No waste movements, one strike, one kill, no space for anything that is not killing the objective, added to his experience as vampire thrall the teachings of his brothers has give birth to an efficient yet unique style of combat.

Climbing the slope that directed into the enchant and alchemy room. The place were the mages of the family spent most of his time and the little playing ground of the giant spider pet of Gabriella Yimir founded the corpse of this last one, near the burned and dismembered remains of his spider pet.

Gabriella died with an trio of spears piercing his chest, surrounded by the corpse of the Penitus he has killed with his destructive magicka and poison arrows. Yimir cover his face when part of the cave collapsed and buried both corpses under fire and rubble.

Incapable of doing anything, he continued to the quarters, perhaps then he could find a damn survivor. The sound of swords clashing filled him with hope, perhaps he could at last reach someone in time for saving him from the death.

Nazir was surrounded by a trio of Penitus Ocultus, with the upper terrain of the stairs gained he was capable of maintaining his attackers in check, but it was a desperate measure; someone appears from the upper side or the attackers just maintain them in this place until all the rubble and fire just finish him.

Yimir roared like cave bear and jumped from the upside just over the trio of attackers, cleaving the head of one of them with his axe and piercing the back of another one until his sword emerged from his chest in a spray of blood.

Nazir laughed and kill with a single blow the last one.

"By the Sands I'm glad to see you brother!" yelled the Red guard over the noise of the inferno surrounding them "I thought it was my end for a moment".

"¡We have been betrayed!" announced Yimir kicking a chair that has suddenly burst in flames " Is the Listener ok?!".

Nazir lead Yimir up to the quarters with a gesture of his hand, he was trying to win the exit surrounding the flames by passing through the chambers of the Night Mother, a place most of stone with few fuels for combustion. Unfortunately The Penitus had almost flooded the Sanctuary with oil and other chemicals that fires without only a little spark but any second win in this race against the inferno was worth the effort.

" I thought you were the traitor" confessed Nazir " but after you saving my skin there is no doubt you are not brother" laughed dodging a piece of rubble.

Both of them shut instantaneously when entering the chambers of the Night mother they found Babette fighting alone against a Penitus armed with a spear. The vampire was not a front line fighter; even with her three hundred years of experience she still has the body of a child.

Nazir rushed in, moving his scimitar in circles, forcing the Penitus to pull back. Yimir attended Babette that was wounded; hard to say if the wound was serious or not, considering the child was a Vampire.

"Embrace the mother..." was muttering constantly grabbing her wound in the shoulder; for an adult it would be hard but for a child the spear has pierced quite a piece of flesh.

Thanks the divines the vampire was not in mortal danger...at last from the spear, the inferno of flames surrounding the place was a completely different matter. Yimir saw the coffin of the Night mother, Nazir killing the last Penitus beheading the bastard with a powerful strike of his scimitar and the situation the survivors were in.

If she wanted to embrace the mother so be it. Yimir pull Babette inside the coffin of the Night mother; collocating both the children and the mummy in a safe position inside the metal box; after that he shut the coffin and make sure there was no cracks or openings on its surface.

Nazir went back into the chamber and saw with horror how Yimir catch breath and started a Thu´um but before he was even able to scream in rage he saw the results of the shout and understand the idea behind it.

"¡Iiz Slen Nus!" when the power of the voice reached the coffin it suddenly get encapsulated in solid ice like a ball of frozen metal, even in the middle of the heat that was started to erupt into the chamber the ice of the shout was leaving a tiny vapor, resisting the flames.

"¡Go out now!" ordered to Nazir before the flames surrounded the only exit of the cave, Yimir has already cleared the entrance when he arrived to the Sanctuary so there will be no ambushes or Penitus Oculatus awaiting for survivors "¡ I will deal with the Night mother and the Listener!, ¡Go!, ¡Now!".

Nazir nodded once and start running as fast as the Red guard can directly to the exit of the Sanctuary leaving Yimir in the middle of the inferno with a ball of three hundred kilos of metal and ice; all was part of the improvised plan of Yimir, not he has give a lot of thoughts into this one but considering the situation he has to admit it could be worse.

A new rumble and the collapse of the roof of the chamber were the advertisement to leave that line of thoughts to another more peaceful day.

Yimir rushed directly against the coffin, rushing it over the floor and against the glass with Sithis image before the shout again.

"¡ Fus Ro Dah!" the glass window exploded like a bomb, sending colored shards in all directions before Yimir and his cargo pass through the window and fell directly into the waters of the pond just under the Night mothers chambers.

Submerging into the dark and frozen waters, leaving the inferno of the Sanctuary behind them. Yimir swim into the deeps taking away both death women from the flames the brotherhood was almost exterminated but he will kept his word.

A debt is a debt, a life for a life.


	6. Chapter Four A Crow with honour (I)

Skyrim

Skyforge

Morning

Yimir raise his head to salute the rising sun; he has been all night working on the first weapon, an Thu´um enchanted sword; made from specially prepared ebony ingots. The shape of the weapon was based on the Sky forge weapons Eorlund made as distinctive feature of his works.

He started to tight the leather strips around the grip of the sword; finishing the weapon and sheathing it into a scabbard; the sword was still hot, from the words of power on his metal ebony core and the last remaining heat from the fires of the Sky forge.

Yimir leave a note for Eorlund on the working bench; asking the old man to prepare another set of ebony ingots for that night as he would return to the forge in order to finish the other masterpiece he was working on.

But before he could leave, he listened the steps of a child climbing the stone ladders of the sky forge; with a smile on his face; Yimir turned back to face one of his adopted children and listen what he needs.

It couldn't look on the outside, but inside his big and sturdy nord skin, Yimir was a big softy. At the moment he received the letter of Constance talking about the possibility of adoption he immediately traveled to Riften with his wife Aela, adopting all the children he could and donating quite the sum of money to maintain and reform the orphanage.

Constance almost believed Yimir was Akatosh reincarnated after that. With the time Constance and Yimir became very good friends; helping the children of the war to find new homes and families.

The children issue was something Aela and him discussed deeply, they wanted his own children but for the moment there has being no luck on that aspect, they still adopted a group of children; considering them as their own even if there was no blood relation.

Yimir has even adopted children from other races; saying that there is no difference for him between an argonian, a nord or a dunmer, they are lost children and need a family like any other child.

This provoked some distance between him and the High King; Ulfrik has always been a proud nord, fighting for his people during the civil war but Yimir was the champion that helped all the people of Skyrim, no matter nord, mer or any other race. The notice of him adopting child from other races caused some commotion across the land.

Yimir tied the sword to his belt; he was waiting to show it to his friends as demonstration of the Thu´um can be used for enchantments as well as magicka; the steps were resonating closer and Yimir notices that they were two steps not only one as he suspected.

Cleaning his sweat with the help of a bucket and some of the water storage for cooling down the red hot metal worked in the forge, Yimir waited for the arrival of the children. Smelling the air; focusing on his better senses as werewolf; he recognize both smells.

He dried the water over his body; thanks to the restoration spells he knew there was no marks or scars in his powerful torso; only the scars on his left eye were present on his body as a reminder that what he was in the past and would never be in the future.

The pair of children reached the peak of the stairs laughing and gasping from the exercise teasing each other; discussing who has won the race, they had forgot what has bring them to the Sky forge in the first place.

Yimir put his clothes and his armor on. When he was on Jorrvaskr he will dress the wolf armor; symbol and uniform for the members of the circle and the Harbinger, the only title that he hasn't give up yet; and no intentions of doing so in the future.

A second after he has finished to put his armor on, he fell the presence of his children jumping over him in laughs, trying to take him down like wolves over a bear; the children were playing and enjoying the morning as much as his adoptive father.

Yimir laughed and lifted the two boys with one hand each; maintaining them on check easily thanks to his strength and size; the boys struggled for a little but finally sighed and yield knowing they couldn't beat at all his father this time. There will be always another occasion and their father was always encouraging them to improve themselves.

"Leon found this unfair" hissed the first child; a young khajjit kitten whose merchant parents were killed by a bandit group "father always wins, he always will be bigger than Leon or brother".

Yimir put the kids on the floor and pat his heads with an smile; it was a good thing Leon was calling Hroar; the other kid; brother and saying it from the heart, Yimir has tried always to make the children fell like a family no matter the race or the blood.

"Yeah; dad will always be stronger than us; no matter how much we train" nodded Hroar to his brother saying.

"Is a dragon bigger than me?" asked Yimir taking the children down to Jorrvaskr, leaving the Sky forge for that day; the sword was firmly tied on his belt and there was another compromises to take care "¿ or a giant?".

"Well, yes, Leon knows that but..." discussed Leon.

"And didn't I vanquish them?" asked again Yimir to his children.

"But mom helped you" intervened Hroar.

"Yes indeed" smiled Yimir remembering the glorious hunts with his spouse " but aren't you two too?"

Both boys shared a glare and look at his father displeased with themselves.

"Never lost hope my little lion pups" both children protested for the nickname; something that has been spreading through Jorrvaskr, Leon and Hroar the lion brothers, sons of Stormblade the Dragonborn, they liked the nickname but not so much the part of whelps, pups or cubs " you will grew stronger in time; until them just learn and practice all you can; ¿hadn't been uncle Vilkas and Farkas teaching you how to fight?"

The children nodded with smiles; they loved the twin warriors; right hands of Yimir on the Companions and Shield brothers against all the world could throw at them. When the twins new of the adoptive children of Yimir, they insisted on make them capable warriors at all cost.

Some of the children had took up the offer gladly but some others not so much, not all of them were interested on the way of the warrior, instead they prefer others way of life. Fortunately they are still young so they had time in order to choose what to do with their lives. Yimir will never intervene on their decision unless they could choose something stupid like joining a daedra cult, became a criminal, a bandit or any other clever decision like that.

"Ah, Leon remembers" said the khajjit boy suddenly when they reached the bottom of the stairs near the under forge, the place Aela had the temple of Hircine and where the Circle holds most of his reunions.

"Aye, Mom wants you at Brezzehome" continued Hroar the message " there is guests waiting for you"

Yimir was a little proud of how this two kids were so coordinated; perhaps they could be an example in the future of how the races could be together and cooperate for a better cause than simply survive.

"Thank pups" teased Yimir the two of them messing the air of his heads "go with the companions perhaps Uncle Vilkas or Aunt Ria would teach you more swordsmanship"

Although the kids revolted against the messing they did what Yimir said and run to the back yard of Jorrvaskr, looking for someone to play with. Thanks to the Nine, all of Yimir Shield brothers and sisters loved to teach the children how to fight as if they were their own apprentices.

Yimir walked down the stairs of the Jorrvaskr entrance talking and saluting the people he know of Whiterun; from the guards to the local merchants and citizens of the city.

Whiterun was one of the most prosperous city on Skyrim thanks to his strategic position in the middle of the roads that connect all the holds; Yimir had a house inside the city; a house that he transformed from a humble house to a big mansion.

After all he was Thane of the city, he needed a lot of space for him and his big growing family, a big house was one of those necessary things. On the beginning he had some mansions outside the cities but he has to admit that the wilderness wasn't the most adequate place for the children, there was a lot of potential dangers, specially on the Pale; with a giant camp to close for being comfortable.

He reached the market place and share some friendly jokes with the sellers on the stalls of the marketplace; he knew and do business with all of them, after all he had a big family to feed; for the sellers Yimir and his family were a bless for the business; his family did eat a lot of food, no matter fresh meat or vegetables, it was always worth to do business with the Harbinger of the companions and Thane of the city.

Carlotta threw a red apple to Yimir for free; it was no secret that the woman was happy to saw her little girl have a lot of new friends among the children of Yimir, she wasn't very happy about the fact that some of them were argonian or khajjit but the child was happy, so was her mother.

When he reached Breezehome; his home on Whiterun; Yimir founded a letter in the side of the door; he smiled when he saw the symbol grabbed on the paper. A black crow with open wings inside a circle of gold.

Inside the letter there was a short message.

"Thank you"

Yimir keep the scroll on his pouch with an ironic smile on his face, opening the door of his home, listening to the friendly and loud chat on the inside, perhaps it was time to build a more big house, this was starting to get little.

The origin of the words was something that happen not so long after the events with the dark brotherhood; when he fight for the last time in Sithis name and just walk away from the brotherhood under the bless of the Night mother and his new Listener. The two damn women never said to him that the title of Silencer was still on the table with his name on it.

The decks of Solitude were a total chaos when Titus Mede died at the hands of the dark brotherhood; his most trusted soldiers; the Penitus Oculatus; were unable to prevent his assassination and they were disconcerted and in low morale.

Not half an hour before the notice spread all over Solitude; the last task of Yimir for the dark brotherhood was being taking place over the woods of the decks of the Solutide; in front of the ship were the Emperor was waiting the blade of the Executioner.

Yimir walked over the woods of the decks, walking straight to the Commander Maro, the one responsible for the carnage on the Sanctuary. In all honesty, Yimir couldn't blame the man for what he did; he would have done the same if his son was killed like Commander was by the hands of Gabriella.

With the dead of his son; Maro was throw into disarray; disconcerting him in order to lessen the difficulties for the assassination of the Emperor, Yimir couldn't care less about that or other any plots Astrid could have make before he finally see the Night so to say. He was carrying vengeance for persons he called family; even if it was for a short while.

Dressed like and assassin of the Dark brotherhood, he was the distraction the real assassination need in order to infiltrate into the ship and kill the emperor, and Yimir was calling out the attention of all the Penitus in the docks indeed.

He took down ;with a couple of shots from the bow Gabriella used to carry on the wedding job; the pair of archers that were watching over the waters of the sea. The noise they make when they fell into the water called out the attention of Commander Maro and some of his best men who were patrolling the decks.

Yimir dispatched the small fry quickly in order to face directly the commander into a personal duel; he deserves that last courtesy; after all he was only a man doing his job; there was no need of the disrespectful. The Commander was just a good man, in a bad position who has the bad luck of be in the way of the Brotherhood.

They fight each other, clashing his weapons with rage and strength.

The commander wielded his two handed steel sword; Imperial craftsmanship no doubt, with the symbol of the Penitus Oculatus on the handle; the weapon was heavy but still balanced and the commander was capable of swing them in wide arcs without leave any openings.

On the other hand, Yimir was wielding dual axes; orcish style; the last weapons he could salvage from the Sanctuary arsenal, some of the last weapons forged by his brother Arnbjorn before being killed and dismembered by the Penitus Oculatus.

His axes moved following the rhythm of the attacks of the Commander; looking for an opening; respecting his opponent Yimir was fighting with him face to face instead of putting an arrow on his face from twenty meters of distance.

The sword of the commander initiated another sequence and Yimir founded the opening he was looking for; a weakness in the Penitus and imperial style of fighting his brother Veezara has already taught to him during his training together but he was surprised to found it in the Commander of the Penitus Oculatus.

Yimir trapped the blade of the great sword, forcing to move an inch more to the right; this action was to quick to Maro to compensate the swing and for that all his side was open for the other axe of Yimir. But it wasn't his objective because he knew Maro was capable enough fighter to recognize his weak spot and prepare a counter for it.

Yimir knelled suddenly, liberating the sword without pulling any resistance and leaving Maro off balance; when the man tried to recover his position by steeping his right foot onto another stance, Yimir swing the left axe into a wide arc cutting his knee.

As the time the Commander was falling to the ground, Yimir raised and with a powerful uprising strike of his right axe sent Maro head directly to the waters of Solitude. The corpse staggered a little before collapsing and bleeding the woods of the deck.

Yimir didn't waste a second and jumped into the water diving quickly and deeply into the deeps before the arrows of the reinforcements reached him and send his soul screaming to the embrace of Sithis.

That was his last job and contract as member of the Brotherhood. He didn't return to the Dawnstar Sanctuary; after all, there was no place for him there; it was a new brotherhood. Guided by his new Listener and under the blessing of the Night mother; recovering the glory of the past.

After that, Yimir changed his clothes into a more humble mercenary equipment and sign himself into the fist carriage there was available from the city to anywhere in Skyrim.

The destination wasn't important, the act of leaving behind the past sure it was; that was very bad luck the carriage he hop into was directed to Riften; transporting fresh materials for the Black-briar meadery.

However perhaps this time the things in Riften could be different, he knew that no one knows he was the one who killed Grelod, and looking it from another point of view, as a common mercenary perhaps there could be some work for him.

At last until he found something worth of fight for, until he could found something to finally settle and start a new life. For the moment only the Dark brotherhood has offered something similar to it but Yimir was conscious that he couldn't stay much longer with the brotherhood; not without a reason as powerful as the one kept him bounded to Babette in the first place.

He has killed a lot of people and monsters yes; but it was always with a purpose, not only because of a contract of just by some dark reason. The blood that stained his hands didn't bother him, Tamriel was a violent place; Yimir was only trying to live in it as honorable as he could.

Riften did gave him a surprise; the first time he entered the city, he didn't had the chance to meet the good people there are inside the walls and beyond the machinations of Maven, the indifference of Layla or the Thieves guild menace.

Among these new meetings there was one that surprised Yimir; first because he would never thought that a person like her would be in a place like Riften but after knowing the woman better, he discovered Mjoll was just an adventurer paying a debt like he was in the brotherhood, only his case was in some way, way more difficult.

Fighting against the corruption of Riften was more difficult than simply slay a dragon. The dragon was a clear opponent, in Riften there are hidden daggers everywhere, not to mention the boasting of Maven about the dark brotherhood something Yimir found incredible funny, no doubt the old hag had his methods about contracting the brotherhood but after Night mother return Yimir was quite sure Maven was going to be quite surprised with the new director in charge.

In any case was Mjoll the one who put Yimir in the clues about an interesting Nordic ruins, as a person like her who lost his dear sword Grimsever inside of some ruins and considering the interest Yimir was showing about that kind of places, the woman revealed the location of an old Sanctum near Windhelm.

A place called the Snow veil Sanctum, inside that place there was supposed to be the last resting place of an Nord king who was devote to the dragons. That piece of information convinced Yimir that there was a very good possibility to found another word of power inside the tomb, another piece of his Thu´um that bring him one step forward to master the Way of the Voice as Dragonborn.

Pity what happened next but there was little he could do at the time on the other hand he meet a good friend and discovered some very fascinating things about the daedra, the guilds, the divines and in general another epic adventure to sum to his own growing saga

Yimir was an adventurer at heart and despite of all the grumbling, the idea of a new exploration always made him happy; if only all the explorations ended well but this was Skyrim and he was Nord.

He will survive and prosper because if the pride of the Nord people to rise from the difficulties into the legend, after all...Sovengard awaits.

Trespassing the tomb protections was quite easily; something that surprised Yimir a lot in fact; there was supposed to be the hell of draugr keeping the treasures and bodies of the ancestors and for the moment, the only thing Yimir has encountered was a lot of destroyed bodies and quite the number of disabled traps in the halls of the sanctum.

And what is worst, no sign of a word of power at all. Every time he was near a word, he could fell the word calling him; whispering dovah words, calling out his essence and sound vibrating and echoing through the soul of Yimir like the strings of a lute.

Not to mention the traps; most of them look disabled but it was a trap; if if that makes any sense; it forced him to go much more slow than he would like, just for safety; a trap can kill you as fast as any blade.

Yimir clear a path among the draugr guardians of the sanctum, slaying the undead with steel and magic; Yimir has always had quite a knack for the shock spells, spells that are quite handy when you are dealing with magicians or creatures that uses spells in combat; destroying both body and magicka in one go.

Thank goodness he has learned how to summon some atronach aides, just with the idea on mind that fighting alone is dangerous and he can not risk the life of any friend; there are a lot of sellswords out there but he was the dragonborn and the risks that he took most of the time were greater than the usual. Dragons for an example of danger Yimir had to face.

When he reached the end of the Sanctuary, he was pretty much convinced that all the travel has been a complete waste of time, until he reached a place with a damn claw lock. Yimir didn't have the claw needed for this gate, so he could not pass from that point , something that frustrated him to no end, until he sensed the presence of more people inside the Sanctum.

Hiding in the shadows and with a little help of a quick invisibility spell; the nord waited and see who were the new intruders, most likely another adventurers, seeking out for gold or jewels inside the ancient tomb. Wealth was the most common reason for the adventurer parties, after all the gold can buy you all the necessities you could have.

Yimir was really surprised when he saw entering the room, the thief called Mercer; a person he dealt with when he was part of the Brotherhood; the leader of the thieves guild established on Riften, trying to recover his glory days with no special success.

He and Delvin Mallory could obtain some goods that are not exactly open to sale in any legal shop in any city of Skyrim; no matter the rarity of the legality of the good you are looking for,, the thieves guild can get it for you for a reasonable price of course. Yimir saluted the man but with a hand already on the grip of the blade, surprised to see the thief in one of this places, the reaction of the man was quite violent; that surprised Yimir but then he remembered that every time he has a deal with the guild, he has done it in the brotherhood armor and with the face covered by the hood mask.

After some explanations and a few swings of the weapons, Yimir convinced the man, he was only and adventurer on a search of ancient tombs inscribed with dragon runes and he was guided here by a friend because it was a nordic ancient tomb; the claw gate was only a proof that it was on the right path.

Mercer stopped the attack, specially after seeing how Yimir has maintained his ground against him without breaking a sweat; he must have saw in Yimir a very opportune ally on his quest..

For what Yimir understood of the conversation, Mercer was after a dunmer called Karliah, the murderer of the previous master guild, a man called Gallus, a genius thief betrayed by this little dunmer bitch, for the most part Yimir wasn't interested at all in the grudges of the man but when he opened the claw gate like it was nothing, Yimir saw the opportunity to deep into the Sanctum and perhaps found another word for his Thu´um.

He wasn't exactly expecting an arrow in the chest, much less a poisoned arrow in the chest..


	7. Chapter Five A Crow with honour (II)

Skyrim

Whiterun

Brezzehome

As soon as Yimir entered his home; a little figure charged from the side of the door to his stomach, hugging him as welcome. Yimir laughed and rise his youngest daughter from the floor up to his head.

"Hello to you too Shivera" saluted Yimir leaving the argonian girl again in the floor near another pair of child who came to welcome his adoptive father. In these recent years Yimir has more children in his house than in the orphanage.

His home in Breezehome was starting to get cramped already with all the children around, fortunately, Lydia was a very competent housecarl and got everything in order every time he or Aela get back from a job from the companions or an adventure.

The children get out of the house quickly, going after who knows what kind of achievements; from simple games to learn how to fight like Leon and Hroar, it wasn't Yimir business to meddle into his children affairs; they would find their ways in life, the more they experienced would do good for them.

Not so long after the kids had gone into the streets, Aela went down the stairs of the first floor with a smile on his face after seeing how the kids almost rushed over his father first time in the morning. The breakfast of ten kids was always a battle, fortunately they were pretty well educated after the first beating about how, when and why do things in the house of the Dragonborn.

Yimir was a big softy inside, so he tend to forgive all the children misdeeds but Aela wasn't so permissive and despite the fact she was as softy as his husband she implemented discipline of the kid minds asap.

Yimir reached his wife quickly and locked her lips with passion, surprising Aela who doesn't resist at all to the kiss, finding his husband specially energetic this morning; they shared a passionate kiss in the hall of the house, forgetting about all around them, focusing in the loved one they had on his arms.

The door opened and almost throw them to the floor, laughing both dodge the door just to look to a surprised J´zargo in the edge of the door smiling with fun in his feline features.

"Does J´zargo interrupted anything?" asked the damn cat with fun in his voice.

"Nay" smiled Yimir still with her wife on one arm in a little forced position near the entrance door "you have come just in time for breakfast my friend"

"There are another guests in the dining room" replied Aela with a voice that doesn't leave place to any discussion "I suggest you to reunite with them"

The khajjit mage laughed warily and do as he was told, entering the house and joining the conversation on the dining room where another bunch of people were already chatting and enjoying Yimir mansion hospitality.

The couple however continue enjoying each other for a minute; locking lips and just enjoying the presence of the other. The passion was still fresh even considering the time that has pass since his marriage in Riften, an adventure by itself.

They stopped gasping but still hugging each other, sharing a little moment of intimacy, there can be said more with gestures than with words and this was one of those moments.

Reluctantly letting Aela go; she has his own business with the Companions, she was a member of the inner circle after all ; Yimir moved into his house to salute the bunch of friends that were waiting for him in the dining room, chatting among them and with Lydia, his housecarl about the recent events in Skyrim

Truth to be said, it was an era of peacefulness for the moment; until the new war campaign start, Ulfrik against the Aldmeri dominion. Yimir opposed the idea of a new war, specially when the consequences of the civil war are still displayed in some of the cities of the nine holds. It was too soon, to reckless to start another war when your country is still recovering from the bloody battles that put an end to the conflict.

Whiterun was one of those examples, but thanks to the fact that made the city grand in the first place, it was almost complete recovered and in process of growing bigger and better than before. Like Whiterun, Solitude, Dawnstar and Riften were in the process of renovations after the battles occurred in their domains; although Solitude has already recovered pretty well; not a surprise after all; it was the capital of Skyrim and a fortress by his own, it only needed the reconstruction of some buildings to make it look like new.

Yimir saw his wife go away and smiled, How come an idiot like him caught such a wonderful woman?, Divines be bless...

When he entered the dinning room, he was received with a loud cheer and a mug of mead; he was among friends and it was all that matters, because he was ready to throw a bomb right on them, a bomb that could change the face of Skyrim for many years to come.

It would be a shock for them; like a poisoned arrow in the chest was for him when he was exploring the Snow sanctum veil.

When Mercer Frey stabbed him to death after his chest was pierced by an arrow; Yimir was convinced he was done for; it was an idiotic way to die but the world is just as cruel as it looks, so at last he did experience some freedom before kick the bucket.

Surprisingly, there was still one more surprise before the end of the day, and it was the dunmer woman called Karliah saving his life, healing his wounds. As the ironic the situation could be, the poison of the arrow was the one responsible for preventing him to die from blood loss when Mercer tried to stab his heart, failing by a millimeter.

Although it hurt as hell; Yimir talked with Karliah, understanding a lot more things, so the thieves guild was being swindled by his own grand master to afford his own luxurious life; sad history indeed, specially the part when Mercer killed Karliah love; Gallus the previous grand master; and throw his corpse somewhere in the snow of the mountains.

Since than Karliah has been fighting a silent and constant war against Mercer, something Yimir found a little strange; after all he has been living with some of the greatest assassins of Skyrim and it was not so difficult to get rid of the man called Mercer Frey.

A poison dagger, an enchanted arrow, a fireball, the possibilities were endless but by some obscure reason there was a motive to ambush him; he was carrying some kind of relic, some kind of secret inside the Guild that the dunmer woman wasn't capable of revealing.

Yimir had some kind of experience with that secret societies and such so it wasn't really so difficult for him to just shrug it of like another mystery to solve in the future.

The real motivation he had now was vengeance; pure and simple retribution against the man who almost killed him in cold blood. If the man had just walk away after the arrow, Yimir would thanked Karliah for saving his life and then he will leave the damn Rift looking for more interesting places; but the man almost killed him and instead of shrugging this dispute of Yimir was now like a hound with the smell of the blood on his nose.

More easy to say than to be done; that Mercer bastard was a really sly scoundrel, and by some reason he was always capable of walk away any trap or lock he found on his way. It was quite confusing until Yimir learned some more about the relationship between Karliah, Mercer and the death Gallus.

Again the destiny was making a joke thanks to Yimir, mixing him with Nokturnal and his bunch of strange protectors and heralds called in whispers as the Nightingales, for Yimir understood of all that mess; Mercer was a former Nightingale until he was corrupted by his own greed and envy stolen a precious relic of the daedra prince.

In all honestly, Yimir had his doubts about this problem all the time he was helping Karliah, for what he cares, the thieves guild could go to oblivion; Mjoll would be relieved if that happens but Karliah was a good woman that has lost his love at the hands of one that she once consider a good friend; she wants retribution and so wanted Yimir so for the moment it would be sufficient.

Infiltrating the thieves guild was easy, specially considering that Delvin Mallory was conscious of his state as member of the brotherhood, something Yimir has already cut bonds with but an extra of badass reputation among this bunch of low-lives and thief was welcomed anytime. It only opened quickly the doors of the core of the thieves guild when Yimir entered into the ragged flagon in order to cut personally Mercer Frey in very tiny pieces with his axes but unfortunately, the bastard has already left; run away to Hircine knows where and without even leave a note.

The scene at the flagon wasn't exactly pleasant much less with the presence of Karliah in order to convince Brynjolf of the innocence of the woman and the scam Mercer was running inside the guild all this time. The man wasn't exactly convinced and some of the most enthusiastic members of the guild did try to attack the dunmer woman. Fortunately for her, Yimir was there and put and end to the dispute in his own spectacular way.

"Get her and make her pay" ordered Brynjolf to the three persons at his side, Delvin, Vex and a woman called Sapphire, as soon as he has give the order, the three unsheathed their weapons and moved to the front to get Karliah as prisoner; too much for the diplomacy so it seems.

Karliah wasn't a pussycat; she was an excellent marksman but in this place, a bow has only two or three shots before they fight get combat close, at the moment Brynjolf give the order the woman had already a hand in his quill, ready to take an arrow and put it on a non lethal place, after all she was there to prove her innocence, another kill for her list wouldn't be exactly good for her allegation.

"Wait" said Yimir taking a draugr mace; a souvenir from the Snow veil sanctum "I take care of this".

When the three attackers reached Yimir he smiled and started his own counterattack; Dragonborn style ; he was prepared for violence and he has already a pair of maces ready for the combat; weapons that can be used for non lethal wounds if one is skilled enough. Yimir was and more of that he has learn some very useful shouts from all kind of sources.

Specially one of them; a Shout that causes the world to move slowly; almost if the time stop; something perfect to hit without killing a bunch of enemies in front of you.

"Tiid" started the Shout and smiled when he started to notice how Delvin; the first attacker realizes what was about to happen and what Yimir was "Klo Ull" finished the shout and started to disarm and take down the three attackers,

Even the full shout cant stop the time fully; so it was a very bad policy to be cocky about the enemies moving slowly around you, the shout can end anytime and find yourself in a very bad position.

Yimir hit Vex wrist almost breaking it; disarming the woman and kicking her in the stomach with force enough to put her on the knees; with his other mace hit Sapphire in the back, between the shoulders, strong enough to made her lost consciousness but not enough to broke her back.

The shout was near the end of it duration and Yimir disarmed Delvin with one mace; the movement of the mace and the pain of his arm distracted the slow Delvin enough to fell for the feint and receive the second mace directly on his face.

The shout finished and the three of them fall to the ground with diverse concussions but not a single lethal wound on their bodies. A scream of pain alerted Yimir but when he looked for the origin of the voice, saw Karliah with her bow ready to shot against an archer on the back of the Ragged flagon. The archer had his hand nailed to the wall, as Karliah shot him to prevent the archer to shoot Yimir on the back when he was dealing with the three attackers.

"Nice shot" congrats Yimir sheathing his maces and facing Brynjolf " could we now talk like reasonable adults?" smiled Yimir leaving the main lights for the dunmer woman who pointed down his bow and walked directly to Brynjolf.

"I told you, I want to demonstrate my innocence, the real culprit here is Mercer, he has been lying to all of you for decades" said the woman a little angered, she wasn't looking for a war, after all, the Thieves guild was her home once.

"You say so lass" replied Brynjolf with a broken smile "but were are the proofs of that uh?; I know Mercer since a lot and I don't think he would lie to me, not to me" shook Brynjolf his head in negation.

"The bastard stabbed me in the chest and run away after confessing the assassination of your previous Grand master" intervened Yimir, still alert for possible attacks form another members of the guild and from the ones on the floor.

"Your word lad" replied again the man " only words, show me proof".

Karliah sighed and take from inside of one of her pockets a little notebook; on the cover of the little book was the name of Gallus and the symbol of Nokturnal; that is were Yimir knew he was in deep trouble with a daedra again.

During his time as thrall, his master has swear a lot of times with the name of Nokturnal, specially when he was robbed by an audacious thief or was the victim of a scam in one of his multiple shady business with alchemy or magic.

The daedra was the prince of the Thieves, a voluptuous young woman always accompany by a pack of crows was the usual representation but no matter how hard you look for it, no book treats the lady well; not a surprise considering she is a daedra but Meridia was too and she is tolerated so far.

Brynjolf recognized the book as the personal diary of Gallus, the guild master, he almost drag the book from Karliah hands passing the pages with increasing surprise, confusion and disgusting.

"I recognize the book, Gallus always had it with him but I can not read half of the content" shouted frustrated the man but at the same time he raised a hand to put an end to any incoming aggression from the members of the guild "however the few pages I can understand did mention a disagreement with Mercer".

"Mercer is lying to all of you" said Karliah in loud voice to all the people in the ragged flagon " he has been stealing the guild all this time since he killed Gallus" proclaimed.

Yimir was nothing more than an spectator at this point and with the misunderstanding cleared, the nord just walk away the flagon in direction of the tavern he has saw before they entered; the place where he did business with Delvin Mallory in the past, when the brotherhood need some special ingredients.

He sat on a chair and pay for some grub and a bottle of Black-briar mead; the family were a bunch of bastards but the mead was actually pretty good; a real pity that such a good mead is in the hands of a bunch of cruel and megalomaniac crazy psychos.

Yimir ate his late lunch in peace, enjoying the brief moment of peace he had before Karliah come to ask his help once again; not a real surprise, Yimir was pretty much convinced, the dunmer woman trusted him up to a point, for the moment he has give no reason to her to suspect foul play in the retribution quest they were performing.

He was chewing a very resilient piece of horker meat when the dunmer woman join him on his table with a pale face, looks that the discussion among the guild wasn't being as successful as she thought; well at last she is alive, more than it could has happened before Yimir intervened.

"So, What happens now?" asked Yimir finishing the meat and gulping down with the help of a bottle of mead.

"We hunt Mercer, we know he is after a relic of some kind but the diary is in Falmer language and it could be impossible to translate" answered Karliah " Brynjolf is going to search the mansion of Mercer here in the city looking for some clues of his destination and I will travel to Winterhold; I have a friend that could help me with the translation".

"Winterhold" repeated Yimir " Is the place where the magic college is located isn't it?".


	8. Chapter Six A Crow with honour (III)

Skyrim

Whiterun

Breezehome

"Its been a long time Stormblade" saluted the biggest man on the room apart from Yimir, with a bear cape all over his strong body.

"Aye" replied Yimir with smile " how are the things back on Windhelm?"

"Slow but steady" shrugged the man with a cracked smile, "the High King is trying to make the other jarls understand the necessity of a strong army; the Thalmor will not be quiet after the end of the civil war".

"They can all go to oblivion for what I care" grunted Yimir, he was against a war; it was too soon after the civil war and the death of Alduin, there are still scars and most important there is still enough problems at home to go seek more outside.

Clean your mess before rush yourself into another and a lot more dangerous one.

"I was convinced that the High King will ask and the jarls will bend to his will" intervened another on of the presents of the table with a red apple on the hand; Mjoll was the housecarl and trusted advisory of the Jarl of Riften after Yimir cleaned the town a little.

"I would have disemboweled already all those milk drinkers " snorted the man in response " but Ulfrik insist on doing this right, bah, you did well running away from the court of jarls Stormblade".

"Aye, I feel very proud myself dodging that arrow to the knee" joked Yimir and the people breakfasting on the room echoed in laughter from the most common joke around all the guard barracks in the holds of Skyrim.

"J´zargo recognizes the Jarl of Winterhold is more receptive to our advises after your talk with him" said J´zargo serving himself a tankard of mead, the travel has been long from the college " but it appears that he is just listening and not paying real attention to us".

"Im surprised" said the man with the bear cape " I was convinced you mages would advocate for peace".

"And we are" smiled J´zargo " but we are still paying the consequences of the actions of a very stupid Thalmor, J´zargo has nothing against the mer but the Thalmor are not welcome in the college".

"Ancano" grunted Yimir munching a sweet roll and gulping it down with a bottle of wine " that son of a golden bitch caused more problems than I would like to count, his messing with the magicka almost destroys Winterhold and the College".

"That's interesting, I never saw you as an scholar" commented Mjoll always ready for a good story, specially from his friend, The Dragonborn "how come you were involved with the mages of the College?".

"I am a mage too you know?" replied Yimir with humour "magic is another weapon in my arsenal, only with more regulations and frontiers than simply behead my enemies with an axe; not to mention healing spells are a bless no matter the situation".

"Odd" commented J´zargo " J´zargo knew you have mastered already the destruction school by the time you first step into the college; now I do remember a very interesting experiment with Brelyna, J´zargo found your transformation into a cow specially amusing".

Yimir snorted loudly not very fond of that memory in concrete, Brelyna was a very friendly dunmer and a student of Alteration magic that help Yimir a lot with his own studies, however the girl was a little clumsy and despite of his lack of malice she usually screw up her own experiments, Yimir was just unfortunate to be in the worst place in the worst moment.

Mjoll and J´zargo were laughing at the image of Yimir transformed into a cow; a very big and confused cow by the way, J´zargo add his own two cents to the laughs however Galmar; the man with the bear cape; had an expression between terrified and amused at the image the other in the room had summoned on his mind.

"Shor bones" muttered drinking a long drink from his tankard; Yimir always had a very notable selection of good mead in all his possessions all over Skyrim " I don't even want to think about how you fell as a cow" commented in low voice to the depressed Yimir.

"Brelyna hid from you for a week, J´zargo remembers" continued J´zargo with the anecdote of the misfortunes of Yimir inside the mage college " J´zargo found specially amusing the moment when Master Tolfir told all the students that the big nord was the new Archmage, poor Brelyna fainted..and guess who was the one that pick her before she feel to the floor?, amusing indeed".

Yimir let the Khajit have a little fun, telling some of his embarrassing adventures among the crazy but good bunch of the mage college and what happened when he was a humble student of the magical arts.

And to think that all started when he did a favour to Kharliah, in order to get her revenge against Mercer Frey; the greedy Nightingale that twisted his gifts from Nokturnal for his own benefit.

She had to travel to Winterhold, the depressing town that was still under the consequences of the Cataclysm; the event that destroy seventy percent of the land of the Hold but let the Mage College practically untouched.

A fact that didn't exactly win the sympathies of the residents of the Hold. Most of them are still convinced that the mages has something to do with the disaster but in cold facts, there was no proof of the mage involvement.

When he first enter the sad town of Winterhold, Yimir thought that the place was too much mopping around and not reconstructing one of the most important cities on Skyrim history. They all too much occupied with their own mopping an brooding over the damages than take the tools and rebuild again.

Not to mention, they can stand very much neither the mages on the college and they are practically their neighbours; the good the Mage College could do to the city was enormous, the magic could help reconstruct, help with the crops, help the guards to deal with any cocky bandit or beast near the border, maintain the citizens healthy and well.

The possibilities of the magic applied to the day to day duties are endless, unfortunately everyone only saw a fireball or a sacrifice for some kind of nigromantic ritual; magic in Skyrim was something not exactly well see...except the Thu´um of course.

Yimir has already mastered to high degree two schools of magic, the Destruction and Conjuration schools, being a very competent healer himself too, however he had a very few spells in his arsenal; this visit to the mage College would help him gain some more spells to use during his travels and adventures and of course his destiny as Dragonborn.

Some good memories were that ones, even considering all started with a shady deal in the back room of the Frozen heart inn in Winterhold.

Yimir was eating a very well roasted venison chop in the Frozen heart inn, in the middle of Winterhold waiting for the contact of Karliah to appear and reveal the information both of them need to finally caught Mercer Frey.

Yimir had been sharpening the blade of a new axe; the neck of Mercer and the blade of his axe must be made acquittance as soon as possible. No one betrays Yimir and goes unpunished; truth is although, that Yimir had nothing against the man before the betrayal; for what he cares, Mercer could scam the fucking thieves guild dry and Yimir wouldn't even cock an eyebrow.

Until Karliah appearance in this little drama he has been dragged into, he wasn't interested at all in the problems of a run down guild of thieves; not he had nothing personal against them; it was just that stealing things around wasn't his style.

Ok, he could raid a lot of draugr tombs but it was in order to gain new words of power; the loot was a extra profit, after all he must do something for living and the title of Thane of Whiterun was just a nobility title, one has to do something for living, specially when you are travelling a lot and working with material as expensive as ebony.

The rewards for bandits and giants were cool too, the amount of money from that jobs was more than enough for his living expenses but it was about time to gain some real profit and opening a merchant shop could be a good idea to start with.

There was that man on Whiterun who would sell his own mother for the right price; in would be worth a shot to send him some of the most delicate or exotic pieces discovered by him in the damn undergrounds. Inside some forgotten caves one can simply found some of the most interesting pieces; some of them would be sold by high prices to nobles and collectors all over Skyrim and beyond.

But thats a matter for better days, now he had to focus on the job at hand, talking to this contact of Karliah inside the college and gain not only the information on where he can found some kind of invaluable treasure but at the same time achieve very delayed revenge on the body of the man called Mercer Frey.

Yimir was pretty much sure there was something more inside this revenge seeking quest; there was something beyond the normal on this, he had this odd sensation every time the supernatural is somehow involved and he usually trust on what his instincts were telling him; till now they had been all correct for what they worth.

He was a good fighter and he was gaining mastery over the Thu´um in laps and bounds thanks to his dragonborn status; having a soul of a dragon inside one could do wonders for your knowledge and power if you could channel the wisdom and strength of the ancient beast; still he was like a child in front of some of the beast the Daedra could muster if you had the bad luck of be in their way.

He has already had some encounters with daedra worshippers and in general, the results weren't positive, with few exceptions the daedra were too focus on their own machinations; only Sam or better known as Sanguine was a lot of fun; despite the killer headache he had the next night and the craziness he had all the way along that dammed night.

From time to time, Sam appears into a party and make Yimir life more interesting; not he complains but sometimes having a crazy daedra prince as a drinking buddy was too much even for the dragonborn; specially considering the crazy sense of humour Sanguine has; not as insane as Sheogorath but still more than enough to give him a headache.

Not to much after he finished his dinner the door of the inn opened and Karliah entered into the inn, leaving a trail of snowflakes into the wood of the floor; it was a snow night with some wind added to the mix; the usual north harsh climate of Winterhold, still Yimir could almost fell that the dunmer didn't like it at all.

Yimir love the harsh climate of Skyrim; it matches him perfectly; blizzards, storms, raging the land like a force of nature without advertisement leaving only the bodies of anyone stupid enough to be on their way.

Specially the storm nights, in some occasion Yimir got out of his refugee or inn only to feel the rain and laugh with the thunder; there was some primal on it and Yimir loved every second of it.

Specially after he learn the word of power related to storm; some nights he just walks into the wilderness and release all the power he could into the Thu´um transforming the night into a raging storm and laughing like a madman under the rain and the lighting, challenging the heavens to do their worst against him.

And he just laugh at them.

Perhaps that's why all celestial being tried so hard to mess with his life: only a few daedras gained his respect and he laughs at the rest caring very little about their machinations. Nor they didnt try their hardest to wrap him in any of those twisted plans.

Karliah had a frown in her dark elf beautiful face when she joined Yimir for a quick and warm drink before her contact in the College appear; Yimir tried his best not to laugh at the image but a quiet chuckle managed to get out of his troath.

Karliah glared him with anger and Yimir just hide his smile under the edge of his mead tankard; soon the fires of the inn will warm the body of the little thief to release her of her anger; the blizzard was strong outside and for the race of Karliah; much more accustomed to the fire than the cold; it was an horrible climate.

Yimir give the woman all the time she wanted to put her thoughts in order and recover from the walk under the blizzard but there was odd on her. She was troubled and not only for the climate and the revenge quest both were embarked, there was something more hidden on her; not really a surprise considering how she was a Nightingale; the favourite pets of Nocturnal; and the title did carry a lot of responsibilities.

She has told Yimir about her Nightingale status when Yimir asked what by Shor bones was happening here after the discovery of how Mercer has managed to break thought the vault of the thieves guild and how he was more than able to bypass the protection of ancient tombs without the claw keys that were indubitable needed.

At the begging Karliah didn't want to but Yimir just stared at her for an hour ;even for Karliah, Yimir could be a very unsettling person when he wants to be; finally she sighed and tell Yimir all of how the Nightingales are the usual Guild master of the Thieves guild as Nocturnal favoured the thieves.

Yimir snorted and sighed shrugging finally; another daedra who wants to mess with his life; not a surprise really; just a little surprised what Nocturnal wanted with him, he wasn't a thief, he was a warrior; a Thu´um warrior in the making so the subtle approach of the thief guild wasn't exactly his forte.

Yimir ended his tankard and chew down the last piece of her venison chop; looking in the counter for the inn keeeper and raising her tankard for a refill; the mead wasn't exactly high quality but it was mead and that was enough. After the refill he look at Karliah seeing the woman was still lost in though.

"A septim for your thoughts" said Yimir drinking his mead.

"Its complicated Yimir" sighed the dunmer woman " I...don't know how to face...there is a last requirement for the Nightingales and...".

"Slow and steady Karliah" chuckled Yimir " I saw you disembowel a falmer in cold blood and now you are fidgeting like a milk drinker; calm down breath deeply and focus tell your giant friend whats the problem".

Yimir focused some of his magicka reserves into his free hand releasing without any effort one of the few illusion spells he knew; a very useful one that calm the emotions of the people around him; as misjudged as it is, the illusion school could be very handy of the battlefield where gold tongues could do more damage than all the battle axes of Skyrim.

"_Thank you Gabriella"_ mussed Yimir on his head as he remembered the crazy dead dunmer of the brotherhood _" muffled spells are fragging useful as you predicted"._

As the spell hit Karliah the dunmer woman get more relaxed by the seconds and recovered a bit of her usual confident air, since the encounter with Brynolf and the rest of the the Guild she was losing the air of paranoia and fear that he had at the beginning but now there was something more on her mind and Yimir was afraid of being entangled again in a daedras web.

"Its..." the woman tried to find the words to express his ideas but before she said anything she quickly scanned the room searching for possible spies or indiscreet ears; it was a wise precaution considering who she was and who she served in the shadows.

"Can we go to a more private place?" asked her in a whisper wanting a little more privacy for the secretes she had told him.

Yimir couldn't resist to tease her a little, he felt a little gilt considering that the woman was still mourning the lost of her love at the hands of Mercer Frey but it was too good to let the opportunity pass. The woman need smile more often no matter how deep she was in the shadows.

By Yismir beard he was an assassin for the brotherhood and they have fun and laughs every day...although the humour was perhaps a little to grin for any listener nearby.

"Oh, you move quickly dear I hope to fill your expectations" mocked Yimir in a sing song tone before get off the chair and lead the way to a private room at the right of the inn.

She snorted and punched Yimir arm when he pass at her side but she did smile and for Yimir that was enough, even after all the secrets and the mess with the thieves guild his guts were telling him that the woman was fair game...her patron perhaps not but the dunmer woman yes and when you befriend Yimir you do a friend for life.

Sitting Karliah on the bed and Yimir on the chair of the little room; Yimir still with his tankard; the woman sighed and start talking much more calmer than she was when she entered the inn. She was afraid that Yimir would stop helping her when she told the giant man what was needed to restore balance in the Thieves Guild and in the Nightingale.

"We...need another Nightingale" she said and Yimir choked on his mead.

"With all respect to Nokturnal and you Karliah but are you out of your fucking mind?" coughed Yimir not liking at all were the conversation was heading.

Karliah didnt answer but in all she was a little surprised, first about how Yimir looks like he knows what were the Nightingales and the fact that she pretended him to join the order of the Nightingales to restore balance to the temple of Nokturnal.

"I can be a Nightingale Karliah...I was part of the brotherhood, I was an Speaker and bounded to Sithis I like it or not; not to mention I am Dragonborn" explained Yimir to the stunned woman who was gaping at the information Yimir has just disclosed to her.

Ok, the Dragonborn part was already out of the bag as she saw him kill using some kind of magic related to the voice that was called the Thu´um; and ancient nord magic for what she knows; but the part of the brotherhood was something directly outrageous.

No one fucks the brotherhood, that was common sense no matter who you are, specially after they have managed to kill the damn emperor in his own ship...wait.

"You killed the emperor?" gasped Karliah starting to see another part of Yimir that was starting to scare her; he was a monster in combat so much she knows but now there was a real dam cave bear out the bag with the brotherhood revelations.

"What?! No!" denied Yimir " I WAS an assassin, not anymore I paid my debt and let the brotherhood however I still have kind of contact with the family as much ass they can be they are family anyways".

Karliah gulped and put her thoughts in order, one thing was being a Nightingale; a real shadow master; and add to that her expertise as one of the best marksmen in the snowy lands but then she was dealing with an Speaker...a high rank assassin of a cult of assassins.

But...

"So..you were an Speaker for the Brotherhood no?" smirk Karliah seeing a piece of hope in the words of Yimir.

"Yeees...?" elongated the vocals Yimir not very sure of what the woman was implying but not liking at all were the conversation was going again.

"Then you are already bounded in some ways to a Daedra but you have not being slaved by him" said the dunmer woman smiling and Yimir shuddered.

"Shor bones..." whispered Yimir.

"Do I interrupt something?" said a new voice in the door of the room in a sing song voice.

Smiling in the edge of the room door was the contact of Karliah; the dunmer mage know as Enthir; smiling with fun at the sight of the smiling Karliah and the depressed Yimir.

"No Enthir" said Karliah glaring at Yimir letting him know that the conversation wasn't over at all "you were right in time".


End file.
